mo 


Division. 

Section  I  3 
'No, 


^aokfi  bp  Ipmau  Abbott, 


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THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


IN  TWENTIETH  CENTURY  PROBLEMS 


Democracy  is  one  step  in  the  march  of  destiny  to- 
ward an  end  imknown,  and  neither  merits  the  praises 
it  has  evoked  nor  the  fears  it  has  inspired. 

Edmund  Schebeb. 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 
1901 


BY 


LYMAN  ABBOTT 


COPYRIGHT,  190I,  BY  LYMAN  ABBOTT. 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 


Published  November,  igoi. 


TO  AUGUSTUS  LOWELL. 

At  once  a  conservative  and  a  liberal^  loyal  alike  to 
the  best  traditions  of  the  past  and  the  best  hopes  for 
the  future,  he  was  peculiarly  fitted  to  be  a  leader  in  an 
original  educational  enterprise.  His  wise  financial  ad- 
ministration conserved  and  increased  the  Lowell  fund  ; 
his  broad  culture  and  liberal  spirit  conserved  and 
strengthened  its  intellectual  power  and  promoted  its 
international  reputation ;  the  disinterestedness  of  his 
integrity,  the  catholicity  of  his  sympathies,  and  the 
warmth  of  his  undemonstrative  nature  endeared  him 
to  those  whom,  he  admitted  to  his  friendship.  All  who 
know  his  work  admire  him ;  all  who  knew  him  loved 
him. 


PREFACE 


These  lectures  were  given  in  the  months  of  January 
and  February,  1901,  before  the  Lowell  Institute  of  Boston, 
some  of  them  in  November  and  December  preceding  before 
the  Brooklyn  Institute  of  Brooklyn,  New  York.  Unlike  my 
previous  courses  before  the  Lowell  Institute  —  "  The  Evolu- 
tion of  Christianity,"  and  "  The  Life  and  Literature  of  the 
Ancient  Hebrews  "  —  which  were  rewritten  for  publication 
in  book  form,  these  lectures,  taken  down  in  short-hand,  are 
here  published  substantially  as  they  were  extemporaneously 
delivered,  although  I  have  not  hesitated  to  condense,  to  elim- 
inate, to  elaborate,  or  to  rewrite  whenever  it  seemed  im- 
portant to  do  so.  Their  object  is  sufficiently  stated  in  the 
opening  paragraph  of  the  first  lecture.  While  they  deal 
with  the  problems  which  the  country  has  been  compelled 
to  confront  anew  during  the  past  three  years,  they  refer  to 
the  specific  aspects  of  these  problems  only  incidentally  and 
by  way  of  illustration.  The  first  six  lectures  are  devoted 
wholly  to  a  consideration  of  fundamental  principles  ;  the 
other  six  to  a  consideration  of  their  applications  to  American 
problems. 

LYMAN  ABBOTT. 

CORNWALL-ON-HUDSOX, 

September,  1901. 


CONTENTS 


I.  The  Conflict  of  the  Centuries. 

The  Struggle  between  Roman  Imperialism 
and  Hebraic  Democracy  :  the  Overthrow 
of  Imperialism,  the  Triumph  of  Demo- 
cracy   

II.  The  Growth  of  Democracy. 

The  development  of  the  conception  of  life 
as  created  and  administered  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  all,  not  of  the  few:  in  religion; 
in  education;  in  government;  in  indus- 
try   

III.  Political  Rights. 

The  basis  of  government ;  its  object  and  func- 
tion; and  the  distinction  between  rights 
which  are  natural  and  universal  and  those 
which  are  artificial  and  acquired 

IV.  Industrial  Rights. 

The  right  of  property;  the  causes  which 
produce   the   inequable   distribution  of 
property ;  the  advantages  of  a  more  equa- 
ble distribution;  and  proper  methods  for 
securing  it      .....  . 

V»  Educational  Rights. 

The  object  of  education  and  the  extent  and 
limitations  of  the  duty  of  a  democratic 
state  in  providing  it  for  the  people  . 


viii 


CONTENTS 


VI.  Religious  Rights. 

The  nature  of  religion  and  the  reason  why 
neither  state  nor  church  may  lawfully 
interfere  with  the  absolute  religious  lib- 
erty of  the  individual,  properly  defined  171 

Vn.  The  American  Democracy. 

The  distinguishing  characteristic  of  the 
American  Republic  as  one  embodying  the 
spirit  of  faith  in  man,  hope  for  man,  and 
goodwill  toward  man      ....  194 

VIII.  American  Domestic  Problems. 

The  Indian  question;  the  Negro  question; 
the  woman  suffrage  question ;  the  question 
of  the  relation  of  the  political  machine  to 
human  liberty ;  the  question  of  the  rights 
of  the  majority  over  the  minority  in  a 
free  community      .....  216 

IX.  American  Foreign  Problems. 

The  processes  by  which  America  has  be- 
come a  world  power,  and  the  duties 
which  its  development  into  a  world  power 
devolve  upon  it       ....       .  251 

X.  The  Perils  of  Democracy. 

Perils  inherent  to  all  democracies;  perils 

incidental  to  the  American  democracy    .  278 

XI.  Safeguards. 

The  grounds  for  believing  that  democracy 
in  some  form  is  the  ultimate  and  perma- 
nent form  of  government      .       .       .  313 

XII.  The  Goal  of  Democracy. 

To  what  extent  and  in  what  sense  demo- 
cracy and  political  Christianity  are  syn- 
onomous  336 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


(This  list  of  books  is  purposely  made  brief,  the  object  being  to  indicate 
volumes  or  chapters  which  may  be  profitably  read  by  the  general  reader  in 
connection  with  the  lectures.  Being  called  for  in  connection  with  the  lectures 
as  given  before  the  Lowell  Institute,  it  is  here  reprinted  as  furnished  for  the 
benefit  of  those  who  attended  that  course. ) 

I.  The  Conflict  of  the  Centuries. 
Hegel :  "  The  Philosophy  of  History." 
Borgeraud  :  "  Rise  of  Modern  Democracy." 
Pietro  Orri :  "  Modern  Italy." 
W.  H.  Fitchett :  "  How  England  saved  Europe." 
Guizot  :  "  History  of  Civilization." 

Gibbon  :  "  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,"  chap- 
ters 1,  2,  and  3. 
James  Bryce  :  "The  Holy  Roman  Empire." 
John  Morley  :  "  Rousseau." 
Tkomas  Carlyle  :  "  Essays,  Vol.  II.  Voltaire." 
MacKenzie  :  "  The  Nineteenth  Century." 
Thomas  Erskine  May  :  "  Democracy  in  Europe." 

II.  The  Growth  of  Democracy. 
Benjamin  Kidd  :  "  Social  Evolution." 
Richard  T.  Ely  :  "The  Labor  Movement  in  America." 
Lecky  :  "  History  of  European  Morals." 
Lecky  :  "  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,"  especially 

chapters  V.,  VII.,  and  XIII. 
Frederic  Harrison  :  "  The  Meaning  of  History." 
Geo.  O.  Trevelyan  :  "The  American  Revolution,"  Part  I. 

III.  Political  Rights. 
Plato:  "The  Republic." 
Hobbes  :  "  The  Leviathan," 
Aristotle  :  "  PoUtics." 


X 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


Machiavelli  :  "  The  Prince." 

W.  W.  Willoughby  :  "  Social  Justice." 

Franklin  H.  Giddings  :  "  Democracy  and  Empire." 

A.  Lawrence  Lowell :  "  Essays  on  Government.** 

IV.  Industrial  Rights. 
Herbert  Spencer  and  others  :  "  A  Plea  for  Liberty." 
Charles  B.  Spahr  :  "  The  Distribution  of  Wealth." 
Sidney  and  Beatrice  Webb  :  "  History  of  Trade  Unionism.*' 
Emile  De  Lavelye  :  "  Socialism  of  To-Day." 

Thomas  Kirkup  :  "  An  Inquiry  into  Socialism." 
William  Graham  :  "  Socialism  New  and  Old." 
Thomas  G.  Shearman  :  "  Natural  Taxation." 
Henry  George  :  "  Progress  and  Poverty." 

V.  Educational  Rights. 

C.  W.  Eliot  :  "Educational  Reform." 

T.  H.  Huxley  :  "  Essays,  Science  and  Education." 

Herbert  Spencer  :  "Education." 

J.  L.  Tadd  :  "  New  Methods  in  Education,"  Book  I.,  "  First 
Principles."  • 

VI.  Religious  Rights. 
Macaulay :  Essays,  Vol.  II.,  "  Gladstone  on  Church  and 
State." 

Gladstone  :  "  Essays,"  Vols.  V.  and  VI. 
H.  C.  Lea  :  "  A  History  of  the  Inquisition." 
Kostlin  :  "  The  Theology  of  Luther." 
Kostlin  :  "  Martin  Luther." 

John  Henry  Newman  :  "  Private  Judgment,"  Essays,  Vol.  II. 
C.  A.  Briggs  :    The  Bible,  the  Church,  and  the  Reason." 

VIL  America  as  Representative  of  Democracy. 
De  Tocqueville  :  "  Democracy  in  America." 
Bryce  :  "  The  American  Commonwealth." 
Nordhoff  :  "  Politics  for  Young  Americans." 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


xi 


VIII.  America's  Domestic  Problems. 
Josiah  Strong  :  "  Our  Country." 

Booker  T.  Washington :  "  The  Future  of  the  American 
Negro." 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson  :  "  A  Century  of  Dishonor." 
Jordan  :  "  Imperial  Democracy." 

IX.  America's  Foreign  Problems. 
Paul  L.  Reinsch  :  "  World  Politics." 

Josiah  Strong  :  "  Expansion  under  New  World  Conditions." 
Brooks  Adams  :  "  America's  Economic  Supremacy." 

X.  Perils. 

Anonymous  :  "  Certain  Dangerous  Tendencies  in  American 
Life." 

Robert  A.  Woods  :  "  The  City  Wilderness." 

W.  A.  Wyckofe :  "The  Workers." 

H.  D.  Lloyd  :  "  Wealth  against  Commonwealth." 

C.  L.  Brace  :  "  The  Dangerous  Classes  of  New  York." 

Jacob  A.  Riis  :  "  How  the  Other  Half  Lives." 

S.  L.  Loomis  :  "  Modern  Cities." 

XI.  Safeguards. 
Theodore  Roosevelt :  "American  Ideals." 
C.  W.  Eliot  :  "American  Contribution  to  Civilization,  and 
other  Essays." 

XII.  The  Goal  of  Democracy. 
Count  Tolstoi  :  "My  Religion." 
Lecky  :  "  Democracy  and  Liberty." 
Henry  Morley  :  "  Ideal  Commonwealths." 
Peabody  :  "Jesus  Christ  and  the  Social  Question." 
Lyman  Abbott :  "  Christianity  and  Social  Problems." 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


LECTURE  I 

THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES 

In  this  course  of  lectures  on  the  rights  of  man 
it  will  be  my  attempt  to  define  with  some  accu- 
racy what  those  rights  are,  in  State,  Church,  and 
Society.  The  time  is  opportune  for  a  considera- 
tion of  this  topic.  The  fundamental  questions  con- 
cerning the  rights  of  man  involved  in  the  recent 
political  campaign  are  not  yet  answered,  and  can- 
not be  by  a  single  election.  But  I  hope  that  it 
may  be  found  possible  for  me  to  write  and  for 
others  to  read  with  minds  freed,  not  indeed  from 
all  prejudice,  but  from  those  partisan  heats  which 
usually  accompany  a  political  contest  and  render 
difficult  a  judicial  consideration  of  the  principles 
involved  in  it.  The  people  have  decided  to  whom 
they  will  intrust  the  administration  of  the  National 
Government  for  the  next  four  years,  and  have  in- 
dicated the  methods  which  they  expect  the  Admin- 
istration to  pursue.  But  the  fundamental  princi- 
ples according  to  which  the  nation  must  frame 
all  its  policies,  both  in  domestic  and  in  foreign 


2 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


dealing,  remain,  and  must  remain,  subjects  for 
public  discussion  and  popular  instruction.  In 
these  lectures  I  assume  that  there  are  such  princi- 
ples, that  they  are  absolute,  eternal,  unalterable 
because  they  are  divine,  that  they  inhere  in  the 
nature  of  man  and  of  human  society  because  they 
inhere  in  the  nature  of  God  which  man  inherits 
from  his  Father,  that  God  is  in  his  world  directing 
its  course  toward  the  ultimate  victory  of  righteous 
principles,  and  that  by  a  study  of  history  no  less 
than  by  consulting  our  own  intuitions  and  giving 
heed  to  the  counsels  of  the  great  spiritual  inter- 
preters of  life,  Hebrew  and  Christian,  we  can 
learn  what  those  principles  are. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era  two  ideals 
of  social  organization  confronted  each  other,  —  the 
Eoman  and  the  Hebraic.  In  the  Roman  Empire 
the  entire  organization,  political,  social,  educa- 
tional, and  religious,  was  framed  and  administered 
for  the  benefit  of  the  few.  The  political  power 
was  centred  in  an  Emperor,  who  administered  it 
throughout  the  vast  empire  by  means  of  a  bureau- 
cracy composed  wholly  of  his  appointees;  through 
their  administration  his  jurisdiction,  civil  and 
military,  extended  throughout  all  its  various  pro- 
vinces. There  are  three  great  powers  which  in  a 
free  community  are  intrusted  to  different  bodies, 
and  so  tend  to  counterbalance  each  other,  —  the 
powers  respectively  of  the  sword,  the  purse,  and 
the  public  conscience.  All  three  were  vested  in 
the  Emperor.    As  commander-in-chief  of  the  ar- 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  3 


mies  of  Kome,  the  power  of  life  and  death  was  in 
his  hands  in  time  of  war;  and  all  times  were  times 
of  war.  The  control  of  the  finances,  the  adjust- 
ment of  taxation,  and  the  appointment  of  the  tax- 
gatherers  were  vested  in  him  through  his  appoint- 
ees, nor  did  it  tend  to  lessen  his  real  authority 
that  he  secured  the  approval  of  the  Senate  by 
giving  to  members  of  that  body  the  chief  places 
of  power  and  emolument.  As  supreme  pontiff  he 
controlled  the  administration  of  religion  and  was 
able  to  regulate  its  functions.  This  supreme  power 
extended  to  the  remotest  provinces  of  the  great 
empire,  and  even  those  cities  which  retained  the 
name  of  free  cities  were  without  the  means  of  pre- 
serving the  liberties  of  their  citizens.  The  pro- 
vinces were,  indeed,  regarded  valuable  only  or  chiefly 
as  a  source  of  public  revenue;  the  right  to  collect 
what  revenue  could  be  extorted  was  sold  to  wealthy 
individuals  or  still  wealthier  corporations,  and  by 
them  in  turn  farmed  out  to  subordinates  who  paid 
for  the  privilege  of  using  the  power  of  the  empire 
to  extort  what  they  could  from  the  people. 

Industrially  and  morally,  society  was  no  less 
organized  for  the  benefit  of  the  few.  Agriculture 
was  wholly  servile;  and  even  in  the  great  cities 
the  full  benefit  of  citizenship  belonged  only  to  a 
small  minority,  —  "a  portion,"  says  Frederic  Har- 
rison, "which  might  not  exceed  one  tenth,  whilst 
ninety  per  cent,  of  the  actual  dwellers  within  the 
walls  might  be  slaves,  freedmen,  aliens,  strangers, 
clients,  and  camp-followers."  ^    The  many  toiled 

1  Frederic  Harrison  :  Meaning  of  History,  p.  231. 


4 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


without  receiving  recompense  in  the  product  of 
their  toil;  the  few  lived  without  industry.  Schools 
for  the  people  were  wholly  unknown ;  the  only  edu- 
cation was  in  athletics  and  rhetoric,  and  this  was 
furnished  only  to  the  children  of  the  most  favored. 
The  offices  of  religion  were  not  conducted  for  the 
purpose  of  adding  to  either  the  intellectual  or  the 
moral  culture  of  the  people;  there  was  nothing 
analogous  to  either  our  pulpit  or  our  Sunday- 
school;  the  pagan  temples  were  not  conducted  for 
an  ethical  purpose ;  their  function  was  to  minister, 
not  to  men,  but  to  the  gods,  either  by  propitiating 
their  wrath  and  so  escaping  their  displeasure,  or 
by  winning  their  favor  and  so  securing,  not  for  the 
people,  but  for  the  Imperial  Government,  what 
may  be  called  their  alliance.  Thus  neither  reli- 
gion, education,  industry,  nor  government  sought 
or  pretended  to  seek  the  well-being  of  the  many. 
The  many  were  regarded  as  created  for  the  few ; 
to  be  fed,  amused,  governed,  compelled  to  labor, 
but  not  to  share  in  the  benefits  of  either  religion, 
education,  industry,  or  government.  Such  share 
as  they  obtained  was  incidental  and  indirect,  not 
purposed  and  planned. 

In  one  province  of  this  great  empire  were  a 
people  who  possessed  a  very  different  social  and 
political  ideal.  It  is  true  that  partly  by  their 
apostasy  they  had  lost,  partly  by  reason  of  their 
feebleness  they  had  been  robbed  of  their  liberties, 
and  that  in  this  brief  sketch  I  portray  less  their 
actual  life  than  the  ideals  contained  in  their  liter- 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  5 


ature.  In  their  ideal  commonwealth  all  authority 
for  law  was  regarded  as  derived  from  God,  not 
from  military  power,  and  the  king  was  as  truly 
subject  to  it  as  was  the  meanest  peasant.  His 
power  was  strictly  limited  by  the  constitution  of 
the  commonwealth;  he  was  commander-in-chief 
of  the  army,  but  the  army  was  composed  of  volun- 
teers; the  power  of  the  purse  was  not  given,  as  in 
later  English  history,  to  a  representative  assembly, 
but  the  amount  of  tax  which  might  be  levied  was 
definitely  limited  to  one  tenth  of  the  agricultural 
product.  The  existence  of  a  landed  aristocracy 
was  prohibited;  private  ownership  of  land  was 
not  admitted ;  the  land  belonged  to  Jehovah  —  the 
landholder  was  only  a  tenant  and  his  lease  expired 
every  fifty  years;  no  caste  of  class  was  allowed; 
the  judges  were  forbidden  to  show  any  superior 
respect  to  the  rich  or  the  great;  bribe-taking  was 
condemned  under  severe  penalties;  and  the  people 
were  required  to  provide  the  same  law  for  foreign- 
ers dwelling  among  them  as  for  themselves.  Slav- 
ery was  so  hedged  about  with  restrictions  that  in 
the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era  it  had  almost  if 
not  entirely  disappeared.  Industry  was  honored 
and  commended,  and  every  father  was  expected  to 
teach  his  boy  some  trade,  and  generally  did  so. 
There  were  schools  for  the  children  of  the  common 
people  in  every  village,  and  though,  measured  by 
modern  standards,  the  education  was  but  scant,  it 
was  perhaps  as  good  as  could  be  expected  from 
a  people  so  poor  and  so  isolated  as  the  Hebrews. 


6 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


It  may  indeed  be  claimed  that  the  priesthood  served 
substantially  the  same  purpose  as  the  priesthood  of 
other  peoples,  the  appeasement  of  God  rather  than 
the  inspiration  of  the  people ;  but  they  occupied  a 
secondary  place  in  the  public  estimate.  The  prin- 
cipal function  of  the  church  was  to  minister  to  the 
life  of  the  people,  who  every  week  gathered  in  the 
synagogues  to  receive  instruction  in  the  principles 
of  their  faith;  the  chief  feature  of  the  religious 
service  was  a  public  reading  and  a  public  inter- 
pretation of  their  religious  books,  the  message  of 
which  may  be  summed  up,  in  the  words  of  one  of 
their  prophets,  that  "to  do  justly,  to  love  mercy, 
and  to  walk  humbly  with  thy  God,"  is  all  that  true 
religion  requires  of  man. 

Thus  the  religious,  the  educational,  the  indus- 
trial, and  the  political  institutions  of  the  Koman 
Empire  were  all  framed  on  the  assumption  that 
the  world  is  made  for  the  few,  and  the  many  are 
to  be  their  servants;  those  of  the  Hebrew  Com- 
monwealth, on  the  assumption  that  the  world  is 
made  for  all,  and  the  few  are  to  be  the  servants 
of  the  many,  —  a  doctrine  which  has  never  found 
a  clearer  definition  than  in  the  statement  of  the 
Great  Prophet  of  the  New  Judaism,  "He  that  is 
greatest  among  you  shall  be  your  servant."  The 
history  of  Europe  from  the  first  to  the  nineteenth 
century  may  be  regarded  as  the  history  of  the  con- 
flict between  these  two  conceptions  of  life  and  of 
the  social  order,  in  which,  in  successive  epochs 
and  by  successive  campaigns,  the  Hebrew  concep- 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  7 


tion,  entertained  originally  by  an  insignificant  and 
despised  people,  has  triumphed  over  the  Eoman 
conception  once  entertained  unquestioned  through- 
out the  then  civilized  world. 

I  have  called  Jesus  Christ  the  Prophet  of  the 
New  Judaism,  for  so  he  may  be  called  when  re- 
garded simply  as  a  social  reformer.  He  took  up 
the  message  of  the  earlier  Hebrew  prophets  and 
repeated,  emphasized,  amplified,  and  extended  it. 
His  followers  built  upon  their  faith  in  his  death 
and  resurrection,  a  faith  that  he  had  come  to 
emancipate  the  many  from  the  thrall  of  the  few 
and  found  a  new  social  order  on  the  earth  in  which 
ambition  should  seek,  not  the  highest  things  for 
self,  but  opportunity  for  the  highest  service  for 
others ;  witnesses  to  his  person  and  heralds  of  the 
new  life,  they  went  forth  as  missionaries  to  pro- 
claim the  advent  of  a  kingdom  of  God  or  of  hea- 
ven on  the  earth,  in  which  the  poor  should  be  re- 
cipients of  glad  tidings,  the  broken-hearted  should 
be  healed,  the  captives  delivered,  the  blind  made 
to  see,  and  the  bruised  should  receive  their  liberty. 
Koman  imperialism  understood  the  social  signifi- 
cance of  this  message  better  than  some  of  those 
who  delivered  it,  and,  seeing  very  truly  that  these 
apostles  had  come  to  turn  the  world  upside  down, 
undertook  to  destroy  the  new  spirit  by  wholesale 
persecutions.  The  attempt  failed.  The  new  faith 
and  hope  in  humanity  could  not  be  extinguished; 
by  the  end  of  the  fourth  century  it  had  captured 
the  empire,  though  by  no  means  all  the  people, 


8 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


and  by  the  seventh  century  had  overturned  the 
old  Eome  and  planted  a  new  Kome  in  its  place. 
The  palace  of  the  Caesars  became  the  Vatican  of 
the  Pope,  the  temples  of  the  gods  were  turned  into 
temples  to  Jehovah  and  to  his  Son  Jesus  Christ, 
and  to  Mary  the  mother  of  Jesus,  and  to  saints 
who  had  given  themselves  to  his  service.  Lan- 
ciani  has  shown  that  it  was  not  the  Goths  and 
Vandals  who  destroyed  ancient  Eome ;  it  was  de- 
stroyed by  the  new  Eome  which  built  the  churches 
of  the  new  empire  not  merely  on  but  out  of  the 
ruins  of  the  old  empire.  The  physical  fact  is 
symbolic  of  the  spiritual.  In  vain  did  Charle- 
magne in  the  ninth  century  and  Charles  V.  in  the 
sixteenth  century  attempt  to  repeat  a  world-wide 
empire  with  a  new  capital  as  its  centre.  Neither 
outlived  its  founder;  the  real  successor  of  pagan 
Eome  was  ecclesiastical  Eome. 

In  this  transformation  of  imperialism  from  a 
military  to  an  ecclesiastical  organization  the  New 
Judaism  had  won  its  first  victory.  It  is  true  that 
ecclesiastical  Eome  was  as  imperial  as  its  prede- 
cessor; but  the  imperialism  was  ecclesiastical,  not 
military.  The  history  of  Eome  may  be  said  to 
have  been  the  reverse  of  that  of  the  individual 
man.  In  the  individual  the  spirit  is  immortal, 
the  body  dies;  in  the  history  of  Eome  the  body 
remained  and  the  new  spirit  took  possession  of  it. 
The  power  of  the  Pope  extended  throughout  the 
whole  of  Europe,  and  it  was  as  absolute  as  the 
power  of  Augustus  had  been ;  it  was  administered 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  9 


by  a  bureaucracy  as  highly  organized ;  the  diocese 
corresponded  to  the  province,  the  archbishop  and 
bishop  to  the  proconsul  and  the  procurator.  But 
the  secret  of  power  was  entirely  different.  "The 
Empire,"  says  John  Morley,  "was  a  political  or- 
ganization resting  on  military  power;  the  Church 
was  a  social  organization  made  vital  by  a  convic- 
tion." ^  The  one  rested  on  fear  of  physical  power 
here,  the  other  on  fear  of  divine  penalty  hereafter. 
It  may  be  said  that  the  one  fear  is  no  better  than 
the  other;  but  it  is  different.  An  empire  resting 
on  an  idea  can  be  conquered  by  an  idea.  By  the 
transformation  of  pagan  Eome  into  ecclesiastical 
Eome  the  battle  between  Imperialism  and  Hebra- 
ism was  transferred  from  the  physical  to  the  spir- 
itual realm. 

The  fundamental  postulate  of  ecclesiastical 
Kome  was  that  Jesus  Christ  had  appointed  Peter 
and  his  successors  to  be  the  vicar  of  God  on  the 
earth,  to  administer  his  kingdom,  and  direct  and 
control  his  Church  in  his  absence ;  that,  therefore, 
what  this  vicar  of  God  officially  declared  was  in- 
fallibly true,  and  what  he  officially  commanded  must 
be  implicitly  obeyed.  And  inasmuch  as  a  vicar  of 
God  could  not,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  be  every- 
where at  once  to  teach  the  divine  truth  and  exer- 
cise the  divine  authority,  inasmuch  as  he  had  not 
the  divine  quality  of  omnipresence,  his  authority 
must  be  executed  through  an  ecclesiastical  bureau- 
cracy, and  the  voice  of  the  priest  must  be  accepted 

1  John  Morley  :  Diderot^  i.  100. 


10 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


in  the  remotest  parish  as  the  voice  of  the  Pope, 
—  that  is,  as  representing  the  vicar  of  God.  To 
refuse  to  hear  and  heed  this  voice  was  therefore 
counted,  not  merely  an  act  of  disrespect  to  an  eccle- 
siastical superior,  not  merely  a  peril  to  the  order 
and  unity  of  the  Church,  but  an  act  of  disloyalty 
to  Almighty  God,  whose  vicar  is  the  Pope,  whose 
pro-vicar  is  the  priest.  On  this  postulate  was 
built  the  whole  superstructure  of  that  ecclesiastical 
imperialism  which  constituted  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church. 

Starting  with  an  attack  upon  what  he  believed 
to  be  an  unauthorized  abuse  in  the  Church,  Mar- 
tin Luther  was  driven  by  the  logic  of  events  to 
deny  this  postulate.  He  did  not  merely  put  the 
Bible  above  the  Church  as  the  final  authority;  he 
did  not  merely  claim  for  man  what  is  called  the 
right  of  private  judgment  under  the  authority  of 
either  Bible  or  Church;  he  affirmed  that  Christ 
was  with  his  Church  always,  even  to  the  end  of 
the  world ;  that  he  was  not  merely  with  the  hier- 
archy, but  was  with  every  one  who  honestly  sought 
to  know  and  do  his  will;  that  there  could  be  no 
vicegerent  when  the  King  was  present,  and  that 
the  King  is  present  with  and  in  every  soul.  The 
Roman  Catholic  Church  was  right  to  refuse  all 
compromise  with  Luther;  Luther  was  right  to 
refuse  all  compromise  with  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church.  There  are  some  issues  which  cannot  be 
compromised.  This  was  such  an  issue.  The  final 
authority  must  be  either  outside  the  soul  in  a 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  11 


church  or  a  book,  or  within  the  soul  in  the  voice 
of  the  reason  and  the  conscience.  There  cannot 
be  concurrent  supreme  authorities  which  sometimes 
conflict.  Luther  gradually  came  to  the  conviction 
that  the  authority  was  within,  not  outside,  the 
soul;  but  when  he  reached  this  conviction  it  was 
unalterable,  and  inspired  him  with  a  military  ardor. 
"The  investigations  of  the  Reformer,"  says  Dr. 
Julius  Kostlin,  who  is  perhaps  his  best  modern 
interpreter,  "lead  to  a  clear  conclusion  that  there 
is,  according  to  the  divine  order,  no  external,  tan- 
gible, final  decision  in  matters  of  faith.  And 
that  this  was  Luther's  conclusion  Dr.  Kostlin 
makes  equally  clear.  In  his  reply  to  the  Legate 
of  Rome  Luther  contended,  his  biographer  tells 
us,  that  "every  faithful  believer  in  Christ  was 
superior  to  the  Pope,  if  he  could  show  better 
proofs  and  grounds  of  his  belief."  ^  Later  reform- 
ers might  draw  back  from  so  radical  a  conclusion ; 
they  might  seek  to  find  in  a  new  Church,  or  a  new 
epitome  of  the  doctrine  of  the  ancient  Church,  or 
in  the  Bible  as  the  outgrowth  of  the  primitive 
Church,  a  final  authority  which  they  could  set  up 
against  Papal  authority.  But  Luther,  who  had 
both  a  clear  vision  and  an  indomitable  moral  as  well 
as  physical  courage,  struck  at  the  heart  of  ecclesi- 
astical imperialism  in  his  doctrine  that  the  final 
authority  in  the  spiritual  realm  is  within,  not  with- 
out; in  the  conscience,  not  in  a  church  or  a  book. 

1  Julius  Kostlin  :  The  Theology  of  Luther^  i.  509. 
*  Julius  Kostlin  :  Life  of  Martin  Luther,  p.  116. 


12 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


His  doctrine  was  not  the  right  of  private  judg- 
ment, though  that  right  may  be  deduced  from  his 
doctrine;  it  was  the  possibility  for  every  soul  of 
direct  communion  with  God,  and,  therefore,  for 
every  soul  to  take  its  directions  from  him  and  not 
substitute  therefor  any  vicar  or  pro-vicar,  living 
or  dead,  in  church  or  in  literature. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  my  purpose  in  this  arti- 
cle to  trace  the  history  of  this  conviction  and 
its  revolutionary  effect  on  the  thought  of  Europe. 
Wherever  it  went  it  destroyed  the  superstructure 
of  ecclesiastical  imperialism  because  it  destroyed 
the  foundation  on  which  that  superstructure  was 
built.  The  second  victory  for  the  new  Judaism 
had  been  won.  Primitive  Christianity,  by  influ- 
ences working  within  the  Eoman  Empire,  had 
transformed  it  from  a  military  to  an  ecclesiastical 
autocracy;  Lutheranism,  working  from  within, 
destroyed  the  foundation  of  the  ecclesiastical  auto- 
cracy. Speaking  broadly,  Lutheranism  found  ac- 
ceptance only  among  the  Germanic  races;  among 
the  Latin  races  the  ecclesiastical  autocracy  re- 
mained dominant,  and  there  remained  also,  based 
on  that  autocracy,  remnants  of  the  old  military 
imperialism,  though  not  in  any  one  world-wide 
power. 

The  religious  revolution  wrought  by  Lutheran- 
ism was  followed  by  another  less  dramatic  but 
equally  important  in  its  effect  on  humanity,  —  an 
intellectual  revolution  wrought  by  science  and 
philosophy.    So  long  as  man  imagined  that  this 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  13 


world  was  a  flat  plain,  that  it  was  the  centre  of 
the  universe,  that  all  problems  of  life  belonged  to 
it,  that  the  sun  and  the  moon  and  the  stars  were 
mere  subsidiary  bodies  created  to  illuminate  it,  he 
naturally  conceived  that  the  problems  of  life  were 
all  within  his  comprehension,  that  it  was  possible 
to  frame  a  comprehensive,  complete,  and  adequate 
theory  of  the  universe,  —  that  is,  of  the  divine  life 
and  the  divine  law.  The  new  astronomy  gave  to 
this  belief  a  shock  from  which  it  has  never  recov- 
ered. As  soon  as  men  understood  that  this  world 
was  not  the  only  nor  even  the  chief  stage  of  divine 
action,  not  the  only  nor  even  the  chief  realm  in 
which  God's  laws  are  operating;  when  they  real- 
ized that  it  was  but  a  smaller  one  of  many  planets 
in  what  is  probably  but  a  smaller  one  of  many 
planetary  systems;  when  they  began  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  infinitely  great,  and  to  discover  that 
the  best  telescopes  which  art  can  create  only  show 
the  universe,  as  we  know  it,  to  be  boundless; 
when,  further,  the  infinitely  little  began  also  to 
be  conceived,  and  it  was  discovered  that  the  finest 
microscopes  which  man  can  invent  leave  the  small- 
est globule  of  matter  still  to  be  analyzed;  when, 
still  further,  geology  and  anthropology  began  to 
carry  history  back  into  boundless  realms  in  the 
past,  and  thus  an  infinity  of  time  as  well  as  an 
infinity  of  space  became  the  subject  of  study,  the 
old  notion  that  man  could  form  a  complete  system 
of  truth  and  reveal  it  infallibly  to  othfer  men,  or 
receive  it,  if  it  were  so  revealed,  became  untenable. 


14 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Gnosticism  yielded  to  agnosticism ;  the  assumption 
of  an  infallible  revelation  was  supplanted  by  the 
more  modest  endeavor  to  know  in  part  and  pro- 
phesy in  part. 

Contemporaneously  with  this  development  in 
observation  came  a  development  in  thought.  Men 
began  to  perceive  that  knowledge  comes  only  by 
research,  and  to  found  their  convictions,  not  on 
their  imagination,  but  on  their  investigation.  If 
some,  in  the  reaction  against  the  old  scholasti- 
cism, denied  the  value  of  the  intuitions  altogether, 
others,  more  rational  and  more  catholic,  simply 
insisted  that  though  the  prophesy ings  of  the  poet 
and  the  seer  were  not  to  be  despised,  neither  were 
they  to  be  accepted  with  unquestioning  credulity; 
that  all  testimony,  whether  of  observation  or  con- 
sciousness, was  to  be  tested  and  proved,  and  only 
such  as  could  bear  the  test  of  a  rational  examina- 
tion could  be  accepted  as  ascertained  and  estab- 
lished. Thus,  partly  through  a  new  science,  partly 
through  a  new  philosophy,  was  born  in  Europe 
the  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge,  which 
found  among  its  most  eminent  exponents  Kant  in 
Germany,  Diderot  in  France,  and  Locke  in  Eng- 
land. While  the  imperial  authority  of  the  Church 
was  rudely  shaken  and  for  the  Protestant  world 
wholly  overthrown  by  Lutheranism,  i.  e.,  by  the 
doctrine  that  God  is  in  his  world  and  speaks  in 
each  soul  and  needs  no  vicar,  the  infallibility  of 
the  Church  was  rudely  shaken,  and  for  all  who 
accepted  the  new  philosophy  wholly  overthrown. 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  15 


by  the  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge, 
i.  e.,  by  the  doctrine  that  knowledge  is  not  and 
cannot  be  instantaneously  and  infallibly  revealed, 
but,  founded  on  experience  and  tested  by  experi- 
ence, must  grow  gradually  as  the  soul  grows,  and 
must  be  limited  by  the  limitations  which  time, 
space,  and  the  laws  and  conditions  of  the  human 
mind  impose  upon  the  soul.  In  the  science  of 
Copernicus  and  Galileo,  and  in  the  inductive  phi- 
losophy of  Bacon  and  what  grew  out  of  it,  impe- 
rialism received  a  third  and  fatal  blow,  this  time 
in  the  intellectual  realm. 

Lutheranism  affirmed  man's  right,  because  his 
duty,  to  judge  in  the  moral  realm;  the  new  philo- 
sophy affirmed  his  right,  because  his  duty,  to  think 
in  the  intellectual  realm ;  his  right  to  act  was  still 
obstructed  by  remnants  of  Koman  imperialism  ex- 
isting in  the  political  and  the  industrial  realm. 

In  England,  where  the  progress  of  liberty  was 
most  advanced  and  best  assured,  and  where  the 
victory  over  ecclesiastical  imperialism  was  complete 
by  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the 
battle  was  first  joined  between  pagan  imperialism 
and  Hebraic  democracy  in  the  political  realm. 

Roman  imperialism  had  never  truly  subjugated 
the  British  Isles.  Caesarism  withdrew  from  Great 
Britain  with  Caesar's  legions,  leaving,  as  the  chief 
if  not  the  only  relics  of  its  occupancy,  remains 
of  Roman  architecture  and  Roman  roads.  It  had 
never  taken  possession  of  the  life  of  the  people. 
In  the  Anglo-Saxon  Witenagemot,  under  Alfred 


16 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  Great,  the  people  were  represented  as  they 
never  had  been  in  imperial  Rome,  and  never  were 
in  the  imperial  government  of  western  Europe. 
The  subjugation  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  by  the  Nor- 
mans gave  unity  to  the  kingdom  without  destroy- 
ing the  spirit  of  the  people.  The  barons  wrested 
from  King  John  in  the  Magna  Charta  concessions 
which  were  fatal  to  absolutism.  The  common 
people,  under  the  lead  of  Simon  de  Montfort,  in 
the  reign  of  Henry  III.  entered  the  Parliament 
and  began  the  process  which  was  to  make  the 
House  of  the  Commoners  supreme.  If  the  willful- 
ness of  Henry  VIII.  was  the  occasion,  the  spirit 
of  independence  in  the  people  was  the  cause  of 
the  reformation  which  separated  England  from 
ecclesiastical  Rome  forever.  Bacon,  the  father  of 
inductive  philosophy,  was  the  progenitor  of  that 
method  of  thought  which,  founding  knowledge  on 
experience,  is  fatal  to  all  ecclesiastical  claims  of 
infallibility,  and  so  prepared  the  way  for  the  more 
radical  if  the  more  practical  philosophy  of  Hume 
and  Locke.  Through  all  these  years  in  England 
imperialism  sat  like  an  uncertain  rider  on  an 
unbroken  horse,  and  her  people  were  prepared  for 
the  final  struggle  more  than  a  century  before  the 
people  of  the  continent  of  Europe. 

Ideas  move  in  the  realm  of  spirit;  force  in  the 
realm  of  matter.  There  are  only  two  ways,  there- 
fore, in  which  a  great  moral  power  can  overcome 
a  great  physical  power,  —  by  converting  it  or  by 
inspiring  a  new  physicial  power  to  conquer  it. 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  17 


The  new  physical  power  which  the  spirit  of  Lu- 
theranism  inspired,  and  which  gave  successful  bat- 
tle to  imperialism  in  England,  was  Puritanism. 
Puritanism  and  imperialism  are  necessary  and 
mortal  foes.  Their  conceptions  of  government, 
industry,  education,  and  religion  are  absolutely, 
irreconcilably,  hostile.  Imperialism  derives  all  its 
ideas  historically  from  pagan  Rome;  Puritanism, 
all  its  ideas  from  the  Hebraic  constitution.  "Eng- 
land," says  J.  R.  Green,  "became  the  people  of 
a  book,  and  that  book  the  Bible.  From  this 
book  they  derived  not  only  their  religious  but  also 
their  social  and  political  ideals.  In  it  they  found 
a  conception  of  social  equality  which  is  still  radi- 
cal even  in  this  democratic  age.  "Their  common 
call,  their  common  brotherhood  in  Christ,"  —  I 
again  quote  from  J.  R.  Green,  —  "annihilated  in 
the  mind  of  the  Puritans  that  overpowering  sense 
of  social  distinctions  which  characterized  the  age 
of  Elizabeth.  The  meanest  peasant  felt  himself 
ennobled  as  a  child  of  God.  The  proudest  noble 
recognized  a  spiritual  equality  in  the  poorest 
'  saint.'  "  It  is  the  fashion  in  our  time  to  speak 
with  open  scorn  or  self-complacent  though  more 
,  gentle  irony  of  the  Puritans;  yet  we  imitate  the 
very  characteristics  in  them  which  we  satirize. 
They  were  Roundheads ;  all  men  now  cut  the  hair 
short.  They  discarded  the  gorgeous  colors  of  the 
Cavaliers ;  we  all  dress  in  sober  grays  and  blacks. 
They  condemned  bull-baiting  and  dog-fighting,  and 
1  A  Short  History  of  the  English  People,  ch.  viii.,  §  1. 


18 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


even  pugilistic  encounters;  our  laws  are  in  these 
respects  Puritanical.  They  forbade  the  drama; 
the  plays  which  occupied  the  stage  of  Charles  II. 
would  not  be  allowed  by  public  sentiment  on  the 
boards  of  a  New  York  theatre  for  a  single  night. 
They  did  not,  indeed,  believe  in  religious  liberty, 
in  the  separation  of  Church  and  State,  in  the  rights 
of  the  individual  conscience  as  we  believe  in  them ; 
that  is,  from  the  doctrine  that  God  is  in  his  world 
and  needs  no  vicar  they  had  not  deduced  all  the 
conclusions  which  their  descendants  have  deduced; 
but  they  held  this  truth  firmly  and  were  prepared 
to  follow  whithersoever  it  led  them. 

In  Oliver  Cromwell  the  virtues  and  the  vices 
of  Puritanism  were  embodied,  —  its  broadness  of 
view  and  its  narrowness  of  sympathy,  its  tenacity 
of  will  and  its  lack  of  tenderness,  its  love  of  lib- 
erty and  its  spiritual  despotism,  its  moral  earnest- 
ness and  its  lack  of  culture,  its  strength  of  con- 
science and  its  intolerance,  its  curious  combination 
of  humility  and  pious  self-conceit.  In  the  ideals  of 
Charles  I.  were  combined  the  principles  of  imperial 
Kome  and  of  ecclesiastical  Eome.  Stafford  repre- 
sented the  first.  Laud  the  second.  But  Charles  I. 
had  neither  the  power  of  a  Caesar  nor  the  diplo- 
matic skill  of  a  Pope ;  in  the  campaigns  between 
his  Cavaliers  and  the  Ironsides  of  Cromwell  the 
battle  between  the  imperialism  of  ancient  Rome 
and  the  fraternalism  of  the  New  Judaism  was 
fought  out;  and  in  the  overthrow  of  Charles  I. 
Eoman  imperialism  was  forever  overthrown  for 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  19 


England.  Neither  the  brief  absolutism  of  Crom- 
well, the  feeble  attempts  to  reestablish  imperialism 
by  Charles  II.  and  James  II.,  nor  the  yet  more 
feeble  attempt  to  practice  it  by  the  Georges,  could 
do  anything  to  stay  the  progress  of  that  popular 
revolution  which  in  our  century  WilKam  Ewart 
Gladstone  has  conducted  to  its  consummation  for 
England,  and  which  other  statesmen  after  him  are 
to  carry  on  throughout  the  wider  domain  of  the 
British  Colonial  Empire. 

On  the  continent  of  Europe  imperialism  had 
met  with  no  such  stubborn  resistance  as  in  Great 
Britain.  It  was  not  dissolved,  undermined,  or  se- 
riously limited;  it  was  simply  broken  into  frag- 
ments. In  lieu  of  one  great  military  power  were 
four  rival  military  powers,  —  France,  Prussia, 
Spain,  and  Austria,  —  and  a  congeries  of  smaller 
powers,  not  less  absolute,  in  Germany  and  Italy. 
Lutheranism  had  never  won  a  considerable'  con- 
stituency in  either  Spain  or  Italy,  and  though 
in  France  the  doctrine  had  been  accepted  by 
large  numbers  of  her  best  citizens,  fire,  sword,  and 
exile  had  so  effectually  driven  the  Huguenots  from 
the  kingdom  that  as  the  eighteenth  century  drew 
toward  its  close  there  was  left  in  that  once  great 
empire  neither  the  conscience  to  resist  absolutism 
in  the  Church  nor  the  courage  to  resist  absolutism 
in  the  State.  By  far  other  warriors  and  by  very 
different  weapons  both  phases  of  imperialism,  the 
military  and  the  ecclesiastical,  received  their  death- 
blow in  the  three  Latin  countries. 


20 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Voltaire  neither  deserves  the  encomiums  of  his 
friends  nor  the  execrations  of  his  enemies.  The 
best  portrait  of  him  in  the  English  language  is 
that  furnished  by  Thomas  Carlyle  in  his  famous 
essay.  Voltaire  was  not  a  great  man,  for  great 
men  always  build,  and  Voltaire  only  tore  down; 
he  was  not  a  great  philosopher,  for  he  left  nothing 
that  can  be  called  a  philosophy  as  a  legacy  to  the 
future;  he  was  not  a  great  poet,  for  he  possessed 
no  true  insight.  He  was  an  iconoclast  in  an  age 
and  a  country  whose  greatest  need  was  iconoclasm ; 
a  destroyer,  but  a  new  order  could  not  be  built 
until  the  old  order  was  destroyed ;  a  cynic  and  a 
mocker,  but  the  age  needed  such  to  unmask  the 
false  pretense  which  mimicked  piety;  an  unbe- 
liever, but  in  an  epoch  when  creeds  had  ceased  to 
be  the  expression  of  religion  and  had  become  only 
the  instruments  of  oppression.  He  had  more  wit 
than  wisdom,  more  audacity  than  courage.  He 
had  the  cynicism  of  Mephistopheles,  but  without 
his  malice;  the  curiosity  of  Faust,  but  without  his 
earnestness.  No  one  who  had  faith  in  God  could 
have  said,  "If  there  were  no  God,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  invent  one; "  yet  he  was  not  an  athe- 
ist. No  one  who  had  faith  in  men  could  have 
said,  "  We  have  never  pretended  to  enlighten  shoe- 
makers and  servants ;  the  true  public  is  always  a 
minority;  the  rest  is  vulgar;  "  ^  yet  he  was  not  an 
aristocrat.    He  hated  falsehood,  yet  had  no  love 

1  Quoted  in  Lecky's  History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Cen- 
tury, V.  314.   See  the  whole  passage,  pp.  309-314. 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  21 


for  truth;  cowardice,  yet  was  no  hero;  false  pre- 
tense, yet  ever  wore  a  mask.  He  did  not  so  much 
love  his  fellow  men  as  scorn  their  oppressors;  he 
despised  the  pretentious  civilization  of  his  age,  yet 
saw  no  way  to  make  a  better  one.  Nevertheless, 
his  ridicule  did  for  France  what  neither  the  piety 
of  Luther  nor  the  conscience  of  Cromwell  could 
have  done  in  a  country  denuded  of  its  devout 
and  independent  souls,  —  it  destroyed  that  respect 
for  royalty  and  that  reverence  for  the  priesthood 
which  were  the  basis  of  imperialism,  military  and 
ecclesiastical.  John  Morley  declares  that  it  was 
Voltaire's  task  "to  shake  the  foundation  of  that 
religious  system  which  professed  to  be  founded  on 
the  revelation  of  Christ."^  That  task  he  success- 
fully achieved ;  nor  is  it  easy  even  now  to  see  how 
it  could  have  been  so  successfully  achieved  in  that 
time  and  among  that  people  by  a  man  of  a  differ- 
ent even  though  a  better  temperament. 

While  Voltaire  attacked  the  bases  of  absolutism 
by  ridicule,  Rousseau,  by  more  subtle  yet  not  less 
effective  methods,  attacked  it  through  the  senti- 
ments. Absolutism  is  based  on  contempt  for 
humanity,  —  by  the  nobility  for  the  commoner,  by 
the  hierarchy  for  the  laity.  Voltaire  turned  the 
laugh  upon  the  noble  and  the  priest,  —  he  leveled 
down ;  Rousseau  claimed  admiration  for  the  com- 
moner and  the  layman  —  he  leveled  up.  The  one 
was  the  cynic,  the  other  the  sentimentalist,  of  the 
Revolution.    It  is  not  possible  to  take  seriously 

1  John  Morley :  Voltaire,  p.  241. 


22 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  man  who  writes  beautifully  of  humanity  and 
left  his  friend  in  an  epileptic  fit  upon  the  sidewalk 
for  strangers  to  take  care  of;  who  exalts  marriage 
and  lived  out  of  wedlock ;  who  glorifies  the  natural 
instincts  of  humanity  and  violated  the  most  sacred 
of  them  by  leaving  his  five  children  in  a  foundling 
hospital  without  even  making  a  note  by  which  they 
could  be  subsequently  identified.^  Some  corolla- 
ries deduced  from  his  philosophy  remain  objects 
of  a  not  very  intelligent  admiration  in  certain  cir- 
cles, but  his  philosophy  concerning  man's  state  of 
nature  and  the  basis  of  government  as  founded 
upon  a  social  contract  is  no  longer  regarded  seri- 
ously by  scholars ;  nor  is  his  faith  in  God  and  in 
immortality,  both  of  which  were  founded  neither 
on  revelation,  reason,  nor  intuition,  but  merely  on 
sentiment,  worthy  of  a  much  more  serious  regard. 
Nevertheless,  his  apotheosis  of  man  signalized  if 
it  did  not  produce  a  new  respect  for  humanity, 
and  initiated  if  it  did  not  induce  a  new  study  of 
man,  and  led  philosophy  to  discern  in  common 
people  qualities  which  the  old  philosophy  thought 
were  wholly  confined  to  the  few.  This  spirit  of 
Eousseau  reappears  in  more  rational  forms  in  the 
fiction  of  Dickens  and  Bret  Harte,  in  the  political 
philosophy  of  Thomas  Jefferson  and  Abraham 
Lincoln,  and  in  the  theological  teaching  of  Chan- 
ning  and  Beecher. 

These  two  forces,  respectively  represented  by 
Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  prepared  the  way  for  the 

1  John  Morley :  Eousseau,  pp.  58,  115-126. 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  23 


French  Eevolution.  The  one  destroyed  respect 
for  the  king  and  the  priest,  and  simultaneously  re- 
spect for  law  and  for  religion ;  the  other  developed 
self-respect  in  the  commonalty,  and,  at  the  same 
time  and  by  the  same  process,  egregiously  fostered 
self-conceit.  The  French  Revolution  was  the  con- 
sequent overturn  of  society;  it  put  what  had  been 
the  bottom  of  society  at  the  top,  and  what  had  been 
the  top  of  society  at  the  bottom.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary for  my  purpose  in  this  article  to  describe 
either  the  social  and  political  wrongs  which  abso- 
lutism had  inflicted  upon  France  nor  the  inade- 
quacy of  the  remedy  which  the  Revolution  prof- 
fered. I  am  here  but  sketching  the  process  which 
throughout  Europe  has  led  to  the  overthrow  of 
imperialism;  and  for  France  it  was  overthrown 
by  the  Revolution  of  1789.  Out  of  that  Revolu- 
tion, at  once  its  product  and  its  typical  represen- 
tative, came  the  last  factor  in  that  history  of  the 
destruction  of  imperialism  which  was  a  necessary 
preparation  for  the  recognition  and  establishment 
of  the  rights  of  men. 

Professor  W.  M.  Sloane  has  described  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  as  "the  embodiment  of  the  Revolu- 
tion," and  no  so  brief  sentence  could  more  accu- 
rately characterize  him.  It  is  true  that  he  was  an 
Italian,  not  a  Frenchman;  and  that  his  earliest 
training  was  Corsican,  not  French ;  but  it  is  none 
the  less  true  that  he  was  a  child  of  the  Revolution, 
that  in  his  person  he  embodied  alike  its  virtues 
and  its  defects,  that  by  his  genius  he  carried  its 


24 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


influence  throughout  all  western  Europe,  and  that 
he  was  not  defeated  until,  on  the  one  hand,  he  had 
completed  the  necessary  work  of  destruction,  and, 
on  the  other,  had  proved  himself  incompetent  to 
lay  the  foundations  of  a  new  order  on  the  ruins  of 
the  old. 

^  The  French  Eevolution  was  the  coronation  of 
self-will  by  a  great  nation.  The  law  which  should 
restrain,  and  the  Church  which  should  guide,  had 
both  failed  utterly,  hopelessly,  irremediably;  the 
pilot  was  ousted,  and  the  passengers  took  posses- 
sion of  the  vessel  and  undertook  to  pilot  it  without 
any  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  navigation.  There 
was  no  one  to  restrain,  no  one  even  to  guide  the 
passions  of  the  hour;  to-day  a  triumphant  multi- 
tude conducted  the  king  into  Paris,  to-morrow  to 
the  guillotine;  now  it  screamed  itself  hoarse  in 
the  glorification  of  the  Goddess  of  Reason,  now  in 
brutal  triumph  at  the  execution  of  her  chief  priest 
Robespierre.  Napoleon  Bonaparte  was  an  em- 
bodiment of  this  spirit  of  self-will.  His  senti- 
ments were  sometimes  of  the  noblest,  sometimes  of 
the  basest ;  he  is  alternately  a  hero  and  a  brigand, 
a  Marcus  Aurelius  uttering  the  sentiments  of  a 
saint  and  a  Nero  doing  the  deeds  of  a  demon,  a 
lover  of  liberty  and  the  most  imperial  Caesar  of 
European  history :  but  he  is  always  uncontrolled. 
Various  are  the  forces  which  operate  to  restrain 
men  from  following  too  absolutely  the  impulse  of 
the  hour,  —  law,  public  opinion,  conscience,  reli- 
gion.   None  of  these  influences  did  Napoleon 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  25 


know.  From  the  initiation  of  his  Egyptian  cam- 
paign he  knew  no  law  but  his  own  will;  he  was 
throughout  his  life  fighting  the  public  opinion  of 
Europe,  and  was  the  creator  of  the  public  opinion 
of  France;  conscience  he  had  none;  and  religion 
he  regarded  not  as  a  power  to  which  he  must  be 
subject,  but  as  an  instrument  which  he  could  use 
to  subjugate  others  to  his  will. 

Thus,  for  the  fifteen  years  in  which  he  ruled 
France,  Europe  saw  an  empire  in  arms  dominated 
by  its  own  self-will,  unruled  by  law,  uninfluenced 
by  public  opinion,  ungoverned  by  conscience,  un- 
restrained by  religion.  Yet  we  can  now  see,  what 
even  such  a  prophetic  spirit  as  Edmund  Burke 
could  not  see  at  the  time,  that  the  great  destroyer 
was  completing  the  work  of  Luther  and  Copernicus 
and  Bacon  and  Cromwell  and  Voltaire  and  Rous- 
seau. Luther  had  destroyed  the  spiritual  author- 
ity of  ecclesiastical  imperialism;  Copernicus  and 
Bacon  had  overthrown  its  intellectual  supremacy; 
Cromwell  had  set  an  example  for  the  rest  of  Eu- 
rope to  follow  in  teaching  the  lesson  that  kings 
are  the  servants,  not  the  masters,  of  the  people; 
Voltaire  and  Rousseau  had  prepared  the  way  for' 
a  similar  lesson  to  be  taught,  not  only  in  France, 
but,  through  the  power  of  France,  in  Italy,  Spain, 
Austria,  and  Germany.  The  Napoleonic  cam- 
paigns completed  their  work:  destroyed  imperial- 
ism in  Spain  and  with  it  the  Inquisition ;  in  Italy 
and  with  it  the  military  support  of  the  temporal 
power  of  the  Pope;  in  Austria  and  so  prepared 


26 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  way  for  the  quasi-emancipation  of  Hungary; 
in  the  German  principalities  and  so  made  possible 
the  unity  of  Germany.  Constitutional  govern- 
ment in  Europe  dates  from  the  beginning  of  the 
present  century,  —  that  is,  from  the  French  Revo- 
lution. The  State  House  in  Boston  and  the  Capi- 
tol in  Washington  are  the  oldest  buildings  in  the 
world  occupied  by  a  popular  assembly.  The  Eng- 
lish Parliament  is  older  than  the  American  Con- 
gress, but  the  Houses  of  Parliament  are  more 
modern;  while  the  Spanish  Cortes,  the  Italian 
Parliament,  the  German  Reichstag,  the  Austro- 
Hungarian  Reichsrath,  and  the  French  Parliament 
are  all  children  of  the  nineteenth  century.  When 
the  sword  of  Napoleon  had  thus  made  possible  the 
organization  of  a  new  social  order,  his  sword  was 
taken  from  him;  the  new  imperialism  which  he 
had  attempted  to  found  on  the  ruins  of  the  old  fell 
in  his  fall  at  Waterloo,  and  the  way  was  left  open 
for  those  constructive  processes  which  were  carried 
on  under  Castelar  in  Spain,  under  Cavour  in  Italy, 
under  Bismarck  in  Germany,  under  Gambetta  in 
France. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  my  present  purpose  to 
do  more  than  recall  in  the  briefest  fashion  these 
constructive  efforts  of  the  present  century.  Bour- 
bonism  was  reinstated  wherever  the  Napoleonic 
era  had  overthrown  it.  The  Holy  Alliance,  most 
unfitly  called,  aimed  not  only  to  reestablish  abso- 
lutism throughout  all  Europe,  but  to  reinstate  it 
on  this  side  of  the  ocean.    The  miscalled  Monroe 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  27 


Doctrine,  English,  not  American,  in  its  origin 
(for  it  was  suggested  by  Canning  and  accepted  by 
Monroe),  gave  a  halt  to  this  effort  by  foreign 
powers  to  export  imperialism  to  the  American  con- 
tinent. At  first  success  attended  the  effort  in 
Europe,  but  the  reaction  was  short-lived. 

In  France  the  people,  thoroughly  awakened  out 
of  the  sleep  of  centuries  by  Napoleon's  cannon, 
could  not  be  put  to  sleep  again.  Revolution  fol- 
lowed revolution.  Napoleon  III.  did,  indeed,  con- 
struct a  new  Caesarism  out  of  the  ruins  of  that 
which  his  uncle  had  constructed;  but  the  Bastile 
could  not  be  rebuilt,  nor  the  spirit  of  liberty  be 
entirely  repressed.  The  awful  and  splendid  genie 
of  the  lamp,  released  from  his  imprisonment,  re- 
fused to  return  to  it  again.  The  self -constituted 
defender  of  the  Church  became,  despite  himself, 
the  instrument  for  the  overthrow  of  the  temporal 
power  of  the  Pope  in  Italy;  and  when  his  empire 
crumbled  at  Sedan,  there  were  ready  a  Thiers  and 
a  Gambetta  to  organize  a  republic  which,  in  spite 
of  emeutes  by  Anarchists  and  Socialists,  and  in 
spite  of  the  advocates  of  the  different  forms  of 
absolutism,  happily  fighting  among  themselves,  has 
grown  in  wisdom  and  in  strength.  If  the  Church 
has  not  been  wholly  separated  from  the  State,  the 
State  is  emancipated  from  the  Church,  and  Pro- 
testantism has  gained  the  right  to  contest  the 
claim  of  Rome  for  supremacy  in  the  religious 
realm.  If  the  schools  are  not  all  that  a  republic 
needs,  they  are  no  longer  the  means  of  maintain- 


28 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


ing  unquestioning  obedience  to  the  authority  of 
an  infallible  Church.  If  the  ambition  of  glory 
which  fifteen  years  of  military  ambition  kindled 
throughout  France  is  not  wholly  laid,  the  spirit 
of  militarism  is  not  the  supreme  power  it  once  was ; 
the  "man  on  horseback"  is  no  longer  the  terror 
of  industrial  France,  and,  if  the  trial  of  Dreyfus 
came  short  of  justice,  it  successfully  asserted  the 
supremacy  of  the  civil  over  the  military  authori- 
ties. 

In  Spain  as  in  France,  though  revolution  fol- 
lowed revolution,  and  every  form  of  government 
was  tried  in  succession,  there  was  no  basis  in  either 
a  common  national  spirit  nor  a  popular  education 
for  a  free  commonwealth.  The  people,  still  cowed 
by  the  domination  of  an  Inquisition,  although  the 
Inquisition  was  destroyed,  are  a  prey  to  office- 
holders, political  and  ecclesiastical.  The  descend- 
ants of  a  nation  which  equipped  the  Armada  proved 
at  Santiago  and  Manila  how  utterly  Spain  had 
failed  to  keep  up  with  the  progress  of  the  age;  the 
brief  and  unequal  conflict  involved  in  the  recent 
Spanish-American  war  is  chiefly  valuable  as  an 
object-lesson  of  the  relative  strength  and  weakness 
of  a  nation  founded  on  the  schoolhouse  and  one 
founded  on  the  Inquisition,  the  one  on  the  right  of 
every  man  to  think  for  himself,  the  other  on  the 
duty  of  common  men  to  accept  without  question  the 
thoughts  of  their  superiors. 

The  emancipation  and  unification  of  Italy  has 
been  achieved  by  spiritual  rather  than  by  military 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  29 


forces.  The  conscience  of  Europe  had  been  awak- 
ened, and  when  Gladstone  in  his  famous  letter  pro- 
tested against  the  cruelty  of  imperialism  in  Italy, 
it  responded  as  it  did  not  to  the  no  less  trenchant 
appeals  of  Voltaire  a  century  before.  It  was  thus 
possible,  as  before  it  would  not  have  been  possible, 
for  Cavour  to  make  the  freedom  and  unity  of  Italy 
a  European  question  and  compel  the  cooperation  of 
the  Powers  against  imperialism  in  the  very  source 
and  fountain  of  its  power.  When,  in  1870,  the  abo-  y 
lition  of  the  temporal  power  of  the  Pope  was  finally 
effected,  it  was  effected  for  all  time,  and  with  it 
the  danger  of  the  permanent  reestablishment  of  the 
old  imperialism  in  either  Church  or  State  west  of 
the  Kussian  boundary  was  forever  destroyed. 

It  is  still  true  that  eternal  vigilance  is  the  price 
of  liberty;  but  it  is  also  true,  as  it  once  was 
not,  that  all  the  liberty  which  they  are  competent 
to  exercise  can  be  had  by  any  people  in  western 
Europe,  if  they  are  willing  to  pay  the  price.  In 
Germany  perhaps  more  than  in  any  other  state 
there  remains  something  of  the  spirit  and  more  of 
the  power  of  the  old  imperialism.  But  the  unity 
of  Germany  has  created  an  organization  which  is 
capable  of  freedom,  and  the  spirit  of  Luther,  though 
without  his  religious  faith,  is  slowly  but  surely 
possessing  the  nation.  A  recent  writer  in  "The 
Outlook  "  has  thus  briefly  characterized  the  earlier 
steps  in  a  process  not  yet  completed :  — 

In  1815  Germany  emerged  from  the  Congress  of 
Vienna  divided  into  thirty-nine  little  states,  but  in  1815 


30 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


was  born  the  man  who  was  to  weld  them  into  one.  So- 
ciety was  then  organized  on  the  old  patriarchal  basis : 
at  the  bottom  was  the  peasant ;  above  him  was  the  gna- 
dige  Herr ;  above  him  Unser  Allergnadigster  Herr,  the 
King,  who  lived  in  Berlin  or  Munich  or  Dresden ;  and 
above  him,  the  Herr  Gott  in  heaven.  The  statesman 
who  was  born  in  1815  brought  about  the  third  great 
event  of  the  nineteenth  century  in  Europe,  the  unifica- 
tion of  Germany.  Though  an  aristocrat,  he  changed  a 
multitude  of  little  states,  as  Italy  had  been  changed,  by 
the  spirit  of  nationalism,  through  centralization,  towards 
democracy.^ 

This  is  not  the  only  case  in  the  history  of  the 
world  in  which  one  who  was  essentially  an  absolut- 
ist has  pushed  forward  the  cause  of  human  rights 
and  laid  foundations  for  a  free  state.  Hildebrand 
transforming  a  political  into  an  ecclesiastical  em- 
pire; William  the  Conqueror  welding  together  the 
fragments  of  provincial  England  into  one  body 
politic;  Napoleon  I.  overthrowing  empires  in  the 
name  of  liberty  by  a  military  empire  more  absolute 
than  they,  but  destined  to  fall  in  pieces  because 
hostile  to  the  interests  if  not  to  the  suffrages  of 
its  citizens;  Napoleon  III.  calling  himself  De- 
fender of  the  Church,  yet  preparing  by  the  victo- 
ries of  Magenta  and  Solferino  for  the  overthrow 
of  the  temporal  power  of  the  Pope;  Bismarck  rul- 
ing with  the  assumed  authority  of  "Herr  Gott  in 
Himmel,"  yet  making  an  empire  which  the  free 
school,  free  thought,  and  a  free  Parliament  are 
1  The  Outlook,  July  14,  1900,  p.  648. 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  CENTURIES  31 


sure  to  make  truly  free,  —  all  furnish  signal  exam- 
ples how  a  Power  higher  than  the  highest  overrules 
the  rulers,  and  achieves  through  their  wills  the 
purpose  of  a  will  they  did  not  themselves  under- 
stand. 

In  history  each  epoch  develops  silently  and  grad- 
ually out  of  the  preceding  epoch,  as  dawn  succeeds 
the  night  and  day  the  dawn ;  but,  in  so  far  as  any 
date  can  ever  be  given  to  mark  a  great  transition, 
it  may  fairly  be  said  that  with  the  foundation  of 
the  German  Empire  in  1871  the  age  of  conflict 
between  Hebraism  and  Romanism  came  to  its  end, 
and  that  henceforth  the  chief  problem  of  the  Occi- 
dent is,  not  how  to  escape  the  perils  of  imperialism, 
military  or  ecclesiastical,  but,  the  supremacy  of 
that  imperialism  having  forever  passed  away,  how 
to  solve  the  problems  of  life  which  are  given  to 
humanity  to  solve  in  the  free  air  of  the  nineteenth 
and  twentieth  centuries.  What  those  problems 
are,  and  in  what  direction  we  are  to  look  for  their 
solution,  will  be  subject  of  consideration  in  the 
future  lectures  of  this  course. 


LECTUKE  II 


THE  GKOWTH  OF  DE3I0CKACY 

In  the  previous  lecture  of  this  course  I  have  en- 
deavored to  show  how,  in  the  conflict  of  eighteen 
centuries  between  the  principles  of  the  Hebrew 
Commonwealth  and  those  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
the  latter  was,  by  successive  processes,  overthrown 
in  western  Europe:  first,  by  the  transformation  of 
the  Eoman  Empire  from  a  military  into  an  ecclesi- 
astical empire;  next,  by  the  denial  of  the  author- 
ity of  the  Church  by  Lutheranism,  and  the  denial 
of  the  infallibility  of  the  Church  by  the  new  philo- 
sophy; finally,  by  the  forcible  destruction  of  the 
military  remnants  of  Roman  imperialism  by  the 
swords  of  Cromwell  and  of  Napoleon.  In  this 
article  I  propose  to  trace  the  historical  process  by 
which  the  fundamental  principle  of  the  Hebrew 
Commonwealth  has  grown  into  general  accept- 
ance as  the  foundation  of  a  new  and  democratic 
order. 

I.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  teaching  of  the 
Hebrew  prophets,  some  of  whose  utterances  were 
certainly  more  catholic  than  the  spirit  of  the  peo- 
ple, the  Hebrew  race  was  possessed  by  a  spirit 
of  brotherhood  at  once  inclusive  and  exclusive ;  it 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  33 


included  all  of  the  race  of  Abraham,  and  excluded 
all  the  rest  of  mankind.  The  most  that  liberalism 
could  claim  was  a  secondary  place  for  the  proselyte 
who  by  baptism  had  been  adopted  into  the  race  of 
Abraham.  This  exclusive  spirit  is  illustrated  by 
the  Temple  at  Jerusalem,  in  which  no  Gentile  was 
allowed  to  pass  beyond  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles, 
under  penalty  of  death;  by  the  egotistical  belief  of 
the  Hebrews  that  they  were  the  chosen  people 
of  God,  —  for  the  choice  of  a  particular  race  out 
of  the  world  by  God  necessarily  implies  that  the 
rest  of  the  world  is  left  by  him  in  darkness  and 
disfavor;  by  their  anticipation  of  the  Kingdom  of 
God,  in  which  Jerusalem  should  be  a  world-cap- 
ital, the  Temple  a  world-centre,  the  Hebrew  nation 
the  mistress  of  the  world,  and  all  other  races  either 
in  subjection  to  it  or  shining,  if  at  all,  only  by  a 
reflected  light  derived  from  the  Hebrews.  When, 
in  Christ's  first  sermon,  he  intimated,  though  with 
the  greatest  tact  and  in  the  gentlest  and  most  indi- 
rect manner,  that  God  cared  for  Gentiles  as  well  as 
for  Jews,  he  was  mobbed;  and  the  proximate  and 
immediate  cause  of  the  popular  feeling  against  him 
in  Jerusalem,  which  made  possible  his  crucifixion, 
was  his  explicit  and  daring  declaration  that  God  had 
rejected  the  Hebrew  people  and  would  build  his 
kingdom  anew  upon  another  foundation.  When 
Paul  first  went  out  from  Palestine  to  preach  to  the 
Gentiles,  it  was  against  the  opposition  of  a  large 
party  in  the  nascent  Christian  Church,  who  could 
not  believe  his  radical  doctrine  that  God  is  the 


34 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Father  not  only  of  the  Jews  but  also  of  the  Gen- 
tiles. In  short,  the  Hebrews  believed  in  what 
seems  to  us  a  very  narrow  doctrine  of  election: 
they  believed  that  religion  was  only  for  the  Jews, 
and  God  was  the  God  of  the  Jews  only. 

As  the  Christian  Church  grew  by  accretions 
from  the  Greek  and  Roman  world,  this  doctrine 
of  national  election  necessarily  disappeared. 
Greeks  and  Romans  would  not  and  could  not  be- 
lieve that  God  was  the  God  only  of  the  Jews,  that 
salvation  was  salvation  only  for  the  Jews,  and  that 
they  could  come  into  the  Church  of  God  and  have 
his  favor  only  by  sufferance  as  adopted  Jews.  A 
new  and  broader  doctrine  of  election  therefore 
took  the  place  of  the  Hebrew  doctrine.  The  new 
faith  was  also  at  once  inclusive  and  exclusive ;  it 
assumed  definite  barriers;  but  they  were  changed. 
In  the  Catholic  Church,  composed  as  it  was  in  un- 
equal parts  of  Jews  and  Gentiles,  the  doctrine  soon 
became  dominant  that  God  is  the  God  of  all  the 
baptized.  There  was  still  a  race;  but  it  was  a 
spiritual,  not  an  ethnic,  race ;  there  were  still  lim- 
itations, but  they  were  ecclesiastical,  not  blood, 
limitations.  Whoever  was  baptized  was  brought 
by  baptism  into  personal  relations  with  God;  who- 
ever was  not  baptized  was  left  forever  outside  his 
grace.  And  this  is  still  the  doctrine  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church.  "Infants  dying  unbaptized," 
says  the  Catholic  Dictionary,  "are  excluded  from 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  although,  according  to  the 
opinion  now  universally  held,  they  do  not  undergo 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  35 


suffering  of  any  kind  in  the  next  world."  The 
Catholic  faith  was  not  always  so  hopeful,  however, 
for  the  Catholic  Dictionary  is  also  authority  for 
the  statement  that  the  merciful  suggestion  of  one 
theologian  "that  God  might  commission  angels  to 
confer  baptism  on  infants  who  might  otherwise 
perish  without  it,"  found  no  general  acceptance; 
while,  on  the  contrary,  "the  theologians  of  the 
Augustinian  order  held  an  opinion  at  the  opposite 
pole,  viz.,  that  the  infants  in  question  were  pun- 
ished both  by  exclusion  from  heaven  and  by  posi- 
tive pain,  though  much  less  pain  than  is  inflicted 
on  those  who  die  in  actual  mortal  sin;"  and  it 
adds,  "This  undoubtedly  is  the  opinion  of  St. 
Augustine."  What  was  the  orthodox  opinion 
respecting  the  fate  of  unbaptized  heathen,  Dante 
graphically  illustrates :  — 

So  he  set  forth,  and  so  he  made  me  enter  within  the 
first  circle  that  girds  the  abyss.  Here,  so  far  as  could 
be  heard,  there  was  no  plaint  but  that  of  sighs  which 
made  the  eternal  air  to  tremble :  this  came  of  the  woe 
without  torments  felt  by  the  crowds,  which  were  many 
and  great,  of  infants  and  of  women  and  of  men.  The 
good  Master  to  me,  "  Thou  dost  not  ask  what  spirits  are 
these  that  thou  seest.  Now  I  would  have  thee  know, 
before  thou  goest  farther,  that  they  sinned  not ;  if  they 
have  merits  it  sufficeth  not,  because  they  had  not  bap- 
tism, which  is  part  of  the  faith  that  thou  belie  vest ;  and 
if  they  were  before  Christianity,  they  did  not  duly  wor- 
ship God  :  and  of  such  as  these  am  I  myself.  Through 
such  defects,  and  not  through  other  guilt,  are  we  lost, 


36 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


and  only  so  far  harmed  that  without  hope  we  live  in 
desire."  ^ 

Paul,  using  Jewish  philosophy  to  broaden  the 
Jewish  conception  of  God,  had  insisted  that  God 
was  not  confined  in  his  choice  to  any  race;  he 
might,  if  he  pleased,  choose  a  pagan,  and  he  might, 
if  he  pleased,  pass  by  a  Jew.  John  Calvin,  partly 
resting  on  the  authority  of  Paul,  partly  employing 
his  method,  used  a  similar  argument  against  the 
baptismal  election  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church. 
He  insisted  that  God  was  not  coni&ned  within  either 
national  or  ecclesiastical  lines;  he  might  choose 
whom  he  liked  and  he  might  pass  by  whom  he  liked. 
Whether  Calvinism  was,  in  the  intention  of  John 
Calvin,  a  broadening  faith  or  not,  —  a  question  not 
necessary  here  to  consider,  —  it  was  so  in  its  effect. 
It  opened  the  way  for  a  supposed  choice  by  God  of 
Jews  who  had  lived  before  Christ,  of  pagans  who 
had  lived  without  a  knowledge  of  Christ,  and  of 
infants  who  had  died  before  they  were  able  to 
exercise  faith  in  Christ.  In  lieu  of  the  Catholic 
doctrine  of  election  which  sent  all  infants  to  a 
Limbus  Infantium  where  they  would  be  forever 
excluded  from  heaven,  the  Calvinistic  doctrine  of 
election  allowed  that  "elect  infants,  dying  in  in- 
fancy, are  regenerated  by  Christ,  through  the 
Spirit,  who  w^orketh  when  and  where  and  how  he 
pleaseth;"^  and  also  mercifully  left  the  hopeful 

1  Dante :  The  Inferno,  Canto  V.,  Charles  Eliot  Norton's  Trans- 
lation. 

2  Westminster  Confession  of  Faith,  ch.  x.,  §  IH. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  37 


believer  to  entertain  the  pleasing  faith  that  all  in- 
fants are  elect  and  therefore  all  infants  are  saved. 
At  the  same  time  it  opened  a  similar  door  for  "all 
other  elect  persons,  who  are  incapable  of  being 
outwardly  called  by  the  ministry  of  the  word."^ 
Calvinism,  as  interpreted  by  the  Westminster  Con- 
fession of  Faith,  does  not  involve  the  damnation  of 
infants  nor  of  the  heathen;  respecting  both,  its 
attitude  is  that  of  agnosticism.  The  election  of 
Calvinism  is  broader  than  that  of  Komanism,  as 
the  election  of  Romanism  is  broader  than  that  of 
the  popular  conception  in  Judaism. 

Arminianism  still  further  broadened  the  doc- 
trine of  election,  though  it  still  maintained  a  line 
of  exclusion  and  inclusion.  That  line,  however, 
was  not  racial,  nor  ecclesiastical,  nor  theological; 
it  was  not  drawn  by  birth,  nor  by  divine  decree, 
but  by  human  choice.  The  most  striking  practical 
manifestation  of  this  new  doctrine  of  election  is 
that  afforded  by  the  history  of  the  rise  of  Metho- 
dism in  England;  and  perhaps  as  unprejudiced  a 
history  of  that  movement  as  exists  is  the  one  fur- 
nished by  Lecky  in  his  "  History  of  England  in  the 
Eighteenth  Century."  ^  The  leaders  of  the  move- 
ment, says  Lecky,  "were  never  tired  of  urging 
that  all  men  are  in  a  state  of  damnation  who  have 
not  experienced  a  sudden,  violent,  and  supernat- 
ural change."  This  supernatural  change  was  based 
upon  a  conscious  repentance  of  sin,  a  self -surrender 

^  Westminster  Confession  of  Faith,  ch.  x.,  §  IH. 
^  Vol.  ii.,  ch.  ix. 


38 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


to  the  will  of  God,  an  acceptance  of  Jesus  Christ 
as  Lord  and  Saviour,  and  was  accompanied  or 
followed  by  "an  absolute  assurance  of  salvation 
and  by  a  complete  dominion  over  sin."  The  rap- 
turous experiences  incident  to  the  preaching  of  a 
new  and  larger  hope  have  passed  away ;  the  philo- 
sophy of  the  change  called  conversion  has  under- 
gone changes ;  but  the  Methodist  or  Arminian  doc- 
trine of  election  remains  substantially  unchanged. 
It  is,  in  a  word,  that  God  chooses  all  who  choose 
him.  God  is  regarded  as  the  Father,  not  merely 
of  a  race,  a  baptized,  an  elect,  but  of  all  who, 
accepting  his  gift  of  life,  become  conscious  sharers 
of  that  life  with  him. 

Even  this  is  not  broad  enough  for  the  broad- 
ening life  of  man.  The  doctrine  of  what  may,  for 
want  of  a  better  name,  be  called  the  New  Theology 
is  that  God  is  the  universal  Father ;  that  he  chooses 
the  Jews  and  also  the  Gentiles,  the  baptized  and 
also  the  unbaptized,  the  elect  and  also  the  non- 
elect,  the  repentant  and  also  the  unrepentant;  that 
he  is  the  Father  of  the  prodigal  son  as  of  the  elder 
brother;  the  Saviour  of  Zaccheus  as  of  Peter, 
James,  and  John;  that  he  loves  the  whole  world; 
that  Christ  lived  and  died  to  save  the  whole  world ; 
that  universal  redemption  is  God's  purpose;  that, 
if  all  men  are  not  brought  at  last  to  holiness  and 
life,  it  will  be  because  his  purpose  is  frustrated 
and  his  love  disappointed;  that,  in  a  sentence,  to 
quote  Dr.  George  A.  Gordon,  of  Boston,  "God 
Las  a  Christian  purpose  toward  our  entire  human- 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  39 


ity,"  and,  "if  God  shall  succeed,  universal  salva- 
tion will  be  the  final  result."  1  Such  is  the  out- 
come of  that  gradually  widening  process  by  which 
the  spiritual  vision  of  man  has  been  extended  and 
his  spiritual  sympathies  enlarged,  from  a  faith 
that  God  is  the  Father  only  of  the  Hebrew  peo- 
ple, to  the  faith  that  he  is  the  Father  of  the 
whole  human  race,  regardless  alike  of  national, 
ecclesiastical,  theological,  or  even  ethical  bounda- 
ries. 

And  the  nature  and  work  of  religious  institutions 
has  changed  with  the  changing  philosophy  of  reli- 
gion. The  Jews  made  little  or  no  attempt  to 
extend  their  faith  beyond  their  own  nationality; 
the  baptism  of  the  people  was  the  chief  objective 
point  of  the  Roman  Catholic  missions,  nor  was 
there  any  considerable  attempt  to  instruct  the  rea- 
son or  change  the  conscience  or  the  moral  life  of 
men  until  by  baptism  they  had  come  within  the 
supposed  reach  of  God's  blessing;  Calvinism  made 
little  endeavor  to  carry  gospel  influences  beyond 
the  geographical  boundaries  which  Providence  had 
indicated  as  those  set  by  his  sovereign  decree  as 
the  limits  of  practical  Christian  endeavor ;  mission- 
ary work  in  the  modern  sense  of  the  term  was  in- 
itiated, at  least  so  far  as  the  Protestant  Church  is 
concerned,  by  the  Moravians  and  the  Methodists 
in  the  eighteenth  century,  but  by  them  was  con- 
fined to  securing  that  supernatural  change  which 
they  deemed  essential  to  the  favor  of  God;  under 

1  The  New  Puritanism,  p.  163. 


40 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  spur  of  the  larger  hope,  the  missionary  move- 
ment of  to-day  includes  schools,  colleges,  hospitals, 
orphanages,  college  settlements,  boys'  clubs,  kin- 
dergartens, —  in  brief,  a  whole  host  of  instrumen- 
talities which  absolutely  though  quietly  ignore  alike 
the  limitations  of  race,  of  baptism,  of  divine  decree, 
and  of  supernatural  conversion,  fixed  by  the  earlier 
theologies.  The  gift  of  divine  life  is  coming  to  be 
regarded,  if  it  is  not  already  regarded,  as  intended 
for  the  whole  race,  regardless  of  blood,  baptism, 
divine  election,  or  even  human  choice;  and  this 
extension  of  faith  and  hope  is  to  be  found,  though 
not  in  equal  degree,  in  the  Jewish  rabbi,  the 
Koman  Catholic  priest,  the  Presbyterian  preacher, 
the  Methodist  evangelist,  and  the  Liberal  philan- 
thropist. 

II.  The  change  which  has  taken  place  in  the 
conception  of  government  is  quite  as  radical  as 
that  in  the  conception  of  religion. 

Aristotle  draws  clearly  the  distinction  between 
two  forms  of  government :  "In  the  government  of 
slaves,  though  the  interest  of  the  natural  slave  and 
natural  master  are  really  identical,  yet  the  object 
of  the  rule  is,  nevertheless,  the  interest  of  the  mas- 
ter and  is  that  of  the  slave  only  incidentally,  be- 
cause if  the  slave  is  destroyed  it  is  impossible  that 
the  master's  government  should  be  maintained. 
On  the  other  hand,  in  the  rule  of  children  or  wife 
or  a  whole  household,  the  end  is  either  the  good  of 
subjects  or  some  common  good  of  rulers  and  sub- 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  41 


jects  alike."  1  The  doctrine  that  political  govern- 
ments exist  and  should  be  administered  for  the 
benefit  of  the  governors,  not  for  the  benefit  of  the 
governed,  was  clearly  a  popular  doctrine,  as  it  cer- 
tainly was  the  common  practice,  in  ancient  time. 
In  Plato's  "Republic"  Thrasymachus  thus,  with 
cynical  frankness,  defines  it:  "Might  is  right; 
justice  is  the  interest  of  the  stronger."  And  he 
keenly  satirizes  the  opposite  view  that  government 
exists  for  the  benefit  of  the  governed. 

"You  fancy,"  he  says  to  Socrates,  "that  a  shep- 
herd or  neatherd  fattens  or  tends  the  sheep  or  oxen 
with  a  view  to  their  own  good  and  not  to  the  good 
of  himself  or  his  master;  and  you  further  imagine 
that  the  rulers  of  states,  who  are  true  rulers,  never 
think  of  their  subjects  as  sheep  and  that  they  are 
not  studying  their  own  advantage  day  and  night."  ^ 
It  is  not  improbable  that  Thrasymachus  is  set  up 
by  Socrates  only  to  be  knocked  down  again,  for 
this  was  quite  the  Socratic  method :  but  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  doctrine  which  he  defends  was  really 
maintained  in  his  time,  else  Socrates  would  not 
have  thought  it  worth  attacking. 

We  need  not,  however,  go  back  to  ancient  times 
to  find  either  defenders  of  this  doctrine  that  gov- 
ernment exists  for  the  benefit  of  the  few,  or  for 
illustrations  of  governments  founded  upon  it.  Two 
striking  illustrations  are  afforded  at  a  much  later 
period,  one  by  Great  Britain,  one  by  France. 

1  Aristotle  :  Politics,  Book  IH.,  ch.  vi. 

2  2%e  Bepublic,  Book  I. 


42 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


In  the  eighteentli  century  Great  Britain  gov- 
erned her  colonies  undisguisedly,  openly,  avowedly, 
upon  the  principle  cynically  avowed  by  Thrasy- 
machus  that  "justice  is  the  interest  of  the  stronger." 
Her  whole  colonial  policy  was  founded  on  the  doc- 
trine that  government  exists  for  the  benefit  of  the 
governors.  " The  general  sentiment,"  says  Alleyne 
Ireland,^  "in  regard  to  the  colonies,  during  the 
period  of  the  old  colonial  system,  was  that  they 
existed  merely  for  the  benefit  of  the  sovereign 
state  ;  that  they  were  a  national  asset  which  should 
be  made  to  yield  as  much  profit  as  possible  to  the 
mother  country."  ^  Green,  in  his  "History  of  the 
English  People,"  while  offering  some  explanations 
of  this  sentiment,  is  not  less  explicit  in  his  recog- 
nition of  it.  "England,"  he  says,  "looked  on 
America  as  her  noblest  possession.  It  was  the 
wealth,  the  growth  of  this  dependency  which  more 
than  all  the  victories  of  her  armies  was  lifting  her 
to  a  new  greatness  among  the  nations.  It  was  the 
trade  with  it  which  had  doubled  English  commerce 
in  half  a  century.  Of  the  right  of  the  mother 
country  to  monopolize  this  trade,  to  deal  with  this 
great  people  as  its  own  possession,  no  Englishman 
had  a  doubt." ^  Lecky,  in  his  "History  of  Eng- 
land in  the  Eighteenth  Century,"  is  more  explicit 
than  either  Green  or  Ireland.  "England,"  he 
says,  "made  it  a  fixed  maxim  of  her  commercial 
policy  to  repress  the  prosperity  of  her  colonies  by 

1  Alleyne  Ireland :  Tropical  Colonization,  p.  7. 

2  History  of  England,  iv.  199. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  43 


crushing  every  industry  that  could  possibly  com- 
pete with  the  home  market."  ^ 

Nor  was  it  America  alone  that  suffered  from 
this  doctrine  that  government  is  for  the  benefit  of 
the  governors  and  that  "justice  is  the  interest  of 
the  stronger."  A  plausible  argument  might  be 
framed  for  the  application  of  this  doctrine  to  the 
American  colonies.  The  continent  had  been  taken 
possession  of  by  Great  Britain ;  she  owned  the  land 
by  right  of  conquest;  she  had  bestowed  it  by  char- 
ters upon  the  colonists  who  were  her  lessees ;  she 
had  expended  money  in  defending  them  from  the 
Indians ;  she  had  furnished  arms  and  men  to  them 
in  the  wars  against  the  French;  they  were  bound 
to  her  by  ties  of  gratitude ;  they  ought  to  be  will- 
ing to  repay  the  debt  by  making  their  policies 
subservient  to  her  interests.  Such  was  the  Tory 
argument  then ;  its  echoes  are  still  to  be  found  in 
literature.  But  no  such  arguments  could  be  pro- 
duced to  defend  the  spoliation  of  the  East  Indies, 
and  the  spoliation  of  the  East  Indies  was  more 
open,  more  flagrant,  more  high-handed  by  far  than 
the  inequitable  government  of  the  American  colo- 
nies. India  was  handed  over  as  a  private  pos-  • 
session  to  a  private  corporation.  The  nominal 
sovereignty  remained  in  Indian  Princes,  the  real 
sovereignty  was  delegated  to  the  East  India  Com- 
pany. It  used  the  name  and  authority  of  native 
rulers  to  earn  dividends  for  English  stockholders. 
The  system,  corrupt  at  its  fountain  head,  corrupted 
1  History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century j  ii.  11. 


44 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


all  who  administered  it.  The  government  of  India 
became  a  system  of  organized  and  unorganized 
pillage,  the  latter  founded  on  the  former.  When 
Lord  Clive  went  out  the  second  time  to  India,  he 
declared  that  "every  spring  of  the  Government 
was  smeared  with  corruption;  that  principles  of 
rapacity  and  oppression  universally  prevailed,  and 
that  every  spark  of  sentiment  and  public  spirit 
was  lost  and  extinguished  in  the  unbounded  lust 
of  unmerited  wealth."  ^  And  Lord  Clive  was  not 
a  purist  in  political  morals;  he  had  gone  out  to 
India  as  a  youth,  a  penniless  clerk;  he  had  re- 
turned at  the  age  of  thirty -four  with  a  fortune  of 
more  than  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  a  year, 
besides  bestowing  in  gifts  to  his  relatives  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  more.  The 
protests  against  this  corruption  fell  on  deaf  ears. 
In  vain  Lord  Chatham  maintained  that  it  was 
both  the  right  and  the  duty  of  Great  Britain  to 
assume  the  sovereignty  which  she  ought  never  to 
have  relinquished.  The  argument  that  a  charter 
is  inviolable  and  that  vested  rights  are  an  invinci- 
ble bulwark  against  all  assailants  of  gigantic  wrongs 
was  too  strong  for  him.  In  vain  was  it  pointed 
out  that  if  the  powers  of  sovereignty  are  delegated 
to  a  commercial  company  they  will  be  employed 
for  commercial  purposes.  In  vain  were  public 
exposures  of  the  enormities  to  which  such  a  travesty 
of  government  inevitably  led,  —  exposures  unhap- 
pily in  that  age  not  as  public  as  they  would  be  in 
1  Lecky :  History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  iii.  518. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  45 


ours  with  its  free  press  and  its  universal  reading. 
Officers  of  the  company  refused  to  pay  the  customs 
which  constituted  the  chief  source  of  government 
revenue ;  sold  to  natives  for  large  sums  a  similar 
exemption;  forbade  natives  to  deal  in  goods  in 
which  they  themselves  dealt;  compelled  them  by 
imprisonment  or  even  flogging  to  buy  of  the  Eng- 
lish official  at  his  own  price;  in  one  recorded  in- 
stance compelled  a  native  peasant  to  plough  up  his 
poppy  field  that  his  poppies  might  not  interfere 
with  their  monopoly.  In  spite  of  all,  it  may  well 
be  doubted  whether  the  East  India  Company's 
rule  would  have  ended  to  this  day,  had  not  their 
agents  and  sub -agents  robbed  the  corporation  as 
well  as  the  natives,  and  brought  the  iniquitous  sys- 
tem to  an  end  by  bringing  both  corporation  and 
colony  to  the  edge  of  irretrievable  bankruptcy. 

The  doctrine  that  government  exists  for  the  / 
benefit  of  the  governors  and  that  "justice  is  the 
interest  of  the  stronger  "  was  even  more  forcibly 
illustrated,  and  its  tragic  results  even  more  terri- 
bly manifested,  in  the  case  of  Ireland.  Doubtless 
the  doctrine  which  prevailed  in  England  in  the 
eighteenth  century  that  Roman  Catholics  have  no 
rights  which  Protestants  are  bound  to  respect  aided 
commercial  enterprise  in  destroying  Ireland  for  the 
supposed  benefit  of  England.  It  is  not  the  first 
time  in  history  that  religious  prejudice  has  come  to 
the  support  of  commercial  greed.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary for  a  description  of  this  application  of  the 
principle  of  Thrasymachus  to  go  beyond  the  pages 


46 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


of  Lecky ;  it  is  not  possible  within  the  limits  of 
this  lecture  to  do  more  than  hint  at  some  of  the 
illustrations  which  those  pages  afford.  England 
disregarded  the  religious  faith  of  Ireland,  denied 
her  aspirations  for  education,  confirmed  the  feu- 
dalism which  was  being  abolished  elsewhere  in  the 
kingdom,  and  aggravated  it  by  substituting  ab- 
sentee and  foreign  landlords  for  the  ancient  lords, 
and  put  restrictions  on  industrial  and  commercial 
enterprises  which  ended  by  destroying  it.  With 
the  latter  process  only,  we  have  to  do  here,  for 
that  alone  was  based  exclusively  and  avowedly  on 
the  principle  that  England's  government  of  Ireland 
should  be  for  England's  benefit.  The  "fixed 
maxim  of  her  commercial  policy  to  repress  the 
prosperity  of  her  colonies  by  crushing  every  rising 
industry  that  could  possibly  compete  with  the 
home  market "  was  rigorously  applied  in  the  gov- 
ernment. Irish  cattle  had  always  been  famous; 
their  importation  into  England  was  prohibited. 
Ireland  has  admirable  harbors ;  no  goods  could  be 
imported  into  English  colonies  except  in  English 
ships  manned  by  English  sailors.  Denied  the 
privilege  of  raising  cattle,  the  Irish  turned  their 
attention  to  sheep,  and  soon  were  producing  what 
was  accounted  the  best  wool  in  Europe.  An  Eng- 
lish Parliament  forbade  the  exportation  of  their 
wool  to  any  other  country;  let  them  make  linen. 
They  attempted  linen,  only  to  find  themselves  for- 
bidden to  export  to  British  colonies  any  but  the 
plain  brown  and  white  linens;  and  to  make  the 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  47 


prohibition  more  effectual,  they  were  not  allowed 
to  bring  back  any  colonial  goods  in  return.^ 

It  was  not  possible  to  apply  the  same  methods 
to  the  same  extent  in  the  American  colonies ;  partly 
because  they  were  too  remote,  partly  because  the 
Americans  were  Americans  and  would  not  submit. 
But  the  same  spirit  underlay  and  the  same  spirit 
guided  English  legislation  concerning  those  colo- 
nies. Navigation  Acts  forbade  all  trading  to  or 
from  the  plantations  except  in  English-built  ships. 
Woolens  manufactured  in  the  colonies  began  to 
compete  with  woolens  manufactured  in  England; 
a  law,  therefore,  was  passed  which  forbade  all  ex- 
portation of  colonial  wool  from  the  colonies  or  even 
from  one  colony  to  another.  America  abounded 
in  iron  ore.  But  England  was  dependent  on  iron 
industry ;  her  law,  therefore,  forbade  all  iron  man- 
ufacture in  the  colonies:  "No  smith  might  make 
so  much  as  a  bolt,  a  spike,  or  a  nail."  America 
abounded  in  furs,  which  began  to  be  used  in  the 
manufacture  of  hats.  The  hatters  of  England 
protested,  and  a  complaisant  Parliament  forbade 
the  exportation  of  colonial  hats  even  from  colony 
to  colony.  The  colonists  were  accustomed  to  send 
provisions  and  lumber  to  the  West  Indies  and 
bring  back  rum,  sugar,  and  molasses.  A  law  im- 
posed prohibitive  duties  on  all  such  articles  unless 
exported  from  the  British  colonies. 

The  object  of  all  this  spoliation  of  India,  of  Ire- 
land, of  the  American  colonies,  was  the  enrichment 

^  Lecky  :  History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  ch.  vii. 


48 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


not  even  of  the  English  nation,  but  of  an  idle  aris- 
tocracy in  the  English  nation.  The  elder  son  held 
the  feudal  estate,  took  the  product  of  labor  he  did 
not  perform,  and  sent  his  own  nominee  to  Parlia- 
ment to  represent  a  constituency  which  did  not 
elect  him.  The  second  son  went  into  the  army, 
and  if  there  were  war  fought  bravely,  for  the 
Englishman  has  always  been  brave;  but  in  peace 
he  lived  in  idleness  on  the  State.  The  next  son 
went  into  the  Church,  not  to  preach  the  gospel, 
but  to  enjoy  a  living;  the  fourth  into  the  navy; 
the  others,  if  there  were  others,  lived  off  the  gam- 
ing-table. Mr.  Smollett  has  described  the  motley 
crowd  at  the  greatest  of  English  watering-places, 
Bath,  which  this  system  produced :  — 

Clerks  and  factors  from  the  East  Indies  loaded  with 
the  spoils  of  plundered  princes ;  planters,  negro  drivers, 
and  hucksters  from  our  American  plantations,  enriched 
they  knew  not  how  ;  agents,  commissaries,  and  contract- 
ors, who  have  fattened  in  two  successive  wars  on  the 
blood  of  the  nation  ;  usurers,  brokers,  and  jobbers  of 
every  kind  ;  men  of  low  birth  and  no  breeding,  have 
found  themselves  suddenly  translated  to  a  state  of  afflu- 
ence unknown  to  former  ages.  ^ 

The  war  of  the  American  Revolution  was  begun 
not  for  any  theoretical  doctrine  that  government 
rests  on  the  consent  of  the  governed;  not  from  any 
complaint  that  the  consent  of  the  colonists  had  not 

1  Humphrey  Clinker ;  quoted  in  The  American  Revolution^  by 
Sir  George  O.  Trevelyan,  i.  46. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  49 


been  asked  for  Acts  of  Parliament  or  appointments 
of  governors ;  not  because  of  any  insignificant  tax 
on  tea  or  paper,  except  as  these  symbolized  the 
principle  that  the  Americans  were  governed  not  for 
their  own  benefit,  but  for  the  benefit  of  the  English 
governors;  not  to  gratify  an  aspiration  for  inde- 
pendence, which  at  first  no  one  desired,  all  depre- 
cated, and  which  finally  was  resolved  upon  by  the 
people  with  reluctance,  because  they  could  get  jus- 
tice in  no  other  way.  Lecky  truly  says  that  "the 
deliberate  and  malifjnant  selfishness  of  Eno^lish 
commercial  legislation  was  digging  a  chasm  between 
the  mother  country  and  the  colonies,  which  must  in- 
evitably, when  the  latter  had  become  strong  enough, 
lead  to  separation."  One  has  but  to  reread  the 
now  unread  Declaration  of  Independence  to  assure 
himself  that  Lecky  and  Trevelyan  are  right  in  their 
interpretations  of  the  meaning  of  the  American 
Kevolution.  "Deriving  their  just  powers  from 
the  consent  of  the  governed  "  is  but  a  parenthetic 
clause  in  the  Declaration,  which  might  be  omitted 
without  mutilating  that  noble  document.  Its  fun- 
damental doctrine  is  "that  all  men  are  created 
equal;  that  they  are  endowed  by  their  Creator 
with  certain  unalienable  rights;  that  among  these 
are  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness ;  that 
to  secure  these  rights,  governments  are  instituted 
among  men ;  and  that  whenever  a  form  of  govern- 
ment becomes  destructive  of  these  ends,  it  is  the 
right  of  the  people  to  alter  or  abolish  it  and  to  in- 
stitute a  new  government,  laying  its  foundations 


50 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


on  such  principles,  and  organizing  its  powers  in 
such  form,  as  to  them  shall  seem  most  likely  to 
effect  their  safety  and  happiness."  ^  On  this  as 
on  a  self-evident  truth  is  based  an  indictment  of 
the  King  of  Great  Britain  for  having  in  his  gov- 
ernment disregarded  these  rights  and  endeavored 
to  establish  and  maintain  an  absolute  tyranny  over 
the  States.  In  this  indictment  there  is  nowhere 
a  count  against  him  that  he  Jias  denied,  refused,  or 
violated  any  real  or  fancied  right  of  self-govern- 
ment. The  indictment  is,  count  after  count,  this 
and  this  alone,  that  he  has  used  the  powers  of 
government  not  for  the  benefit  of  the  governed, 
but  for  the  benefit  of  the  governors.    Self -govern - 

/  ment  is  but  a  means  to  an  end ;  but  the  end  of  all 
just  governments,  whether  paternal,  aristocratic, 
or  democratic,  is  always  the  same,  —  the  well-being 

^of  those  that  are  governed. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  my  purpose,  nor  is  there 
space  in  this  lecture,  to  show  how  this  doctrine 
that  governments  exist  for  the  benefit  of  the  gov- 
erned crossed  the  ocean,  how  it  found  a  fertile 
soil  in  France,  how,  mingling  with  previous  teach- 
ings to  the  same  effect,  it  cooperated  in  producing 
the  Revolution  of  1789.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  de- 
scribe at  length  the  Bourbon  rule  of  France  which 
has  preceded  that  revolution,  a  rule  which  denied 
every  right  claimed  as  self-evident  by  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence,  —  the  right  to  life,  the  right 
to  liberty,  and  the  right  to  the  pursuit  of  happi- 

1  See  further,  on  this  topic,  the  next  lecture. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  51 


ness.  The  wholesale  starvation  of  communes  while 
the  court  was  feasting  symbolized  the  first  denial; 
the  Bastile  with  its  prisoners  who  never  knew  the 
complaints  against  them  symbolized  the  second; 
the  indescribable  misery  of  a  people  sunk  in  the 
despair  of  a  degradation  which  language  cannot 
picture  emphasized  the  third.  No  one  can  read 
Taine's  "Ancient  Regime,"  or  Morse  Stephen's 
"French  Revolution,"  or  even  such  a  novel  as 
Dickens's  "Tale  of  Two  Cities,"  and  question  that 
the  government  of  France  under  the  Bourbons  was 
and  had  been  without  disguise  administered  for 
the  benefit  of  the  few  and  in  disregard  of  the  self- 
evident  right  of  the  many;  was  and  had  been  con- 
sistently based  on  Thrasymachus's  definition  of 
justice  as  "the  interest  of  the  stronger;"  was  and 
had  been  framed  on  the  pattern  of  a  slavocracy, 
not  on  that  of  a  household.  Nor  is  it  less  clear 
that  the  revolt  of  1789  was  a  revolt  against  this 
fundamental  assumption  of  all  feudal  governments 
that  the  many  exist  for  the  benefit  of  the  few,  not 
necessarily  that  government  rests  on  the  consent  of 
the  governed.  Frederic  Harrison  thus  interprets 
the  effect  of  that  revolution :  — 

For  the  old  patriarchal  proprietary  de  jure  theory  of 
rule,  there  was  everywhere  substituted  on  the  continent 
of  Europe  the  popular  fiduciary,  pro  bono  publico  notion 
of  rule.  Government  ceased  to  be  the  privilege  of  the 
ruler ;  it  became  a  trust  imposed  on  the  ruler  for  the 
common  weal  of  the  ruled.  .  .  .  Over  the  continent  of 
Europe,  down  to  1789,  the  proprietary  or  jure  divino 


52 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


theory  of  privilege  existed  in  full  form,  except  in  some 
petty  republics  which  were  of  slight  practical  impor- 
tance. The  long  war,  the  reactionary  Empire  of  Napo- 
leon, and  the  royal  reaction  which  followed  its  over- 
throw made  a  faint  semblance  of  revival  for  privilege. 
But  after  the  final  extinction  of  the  Bourbons  in  1830, 
the  idea  of  privilege  disappeared  from  the  conception  of 
the  state.  In  England  the  Reform  Act  of  1832,  and 
finally  the  European  movement  of  1838,  completed  the 
^  change.  So  that  throughout  Europe,  west  of  Turkey, 
all  governments  alike  —  imperial,  royal,  aristocratic,  or 
repubhcan,  as  they  may  be  in  form  —  exist  more  or  less 
in  fact,  and  in  profession  exist  exclusively,  for  the  gen- 
eral welfare  of  the  nation.  This  is  the  first  and  general 
idea  of  '89.1 

Such  is  the  outcome  of  the  second  great  move- 
ment, —  the  political.  The  religious  movement 
has  conducted  us  from  a  narrow  faith  in  a  God  of 
a  race,  a  baptized,  an  elect,  or  a  repentant  people, 
to  faith  in  a  God  of  humanity;  the  second  has 
conducted  us  from  a  conception  of  government  as 
organized  and  maintained  for  the  benefit  of  the 
few  who  govern,  to  a  conception  of  government  as 
organized  and  to  be  maintained  for  the  benefit  of 
the  many  who  are  governed. 

III.  Analogous  to  and  contemporaneous  with 
this  enlargement  of  the  theological  conception  of 
God  and  his  relation  to  humanity,  and  the  politi- 
cal conception  of  government  and  its  relation  to 
the  governed,  is  an  enlargement  of  the  conception 
of  the  social  and  industrial  organization.  The 

1  Frederic  Harrison :  The  Meaning  of  History^  pp.  189,  190. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  53 


latter  movement  has  not  reached,  either  in  its 
theory  or  its  practice,  the  democratic  realization ; 
but  the  candid  and  careful  student  of  history  can 
hardly  doubt  that  its  tendency  is  democratic,  — 
that  is,  a  tendency  toward  the  doctrine  that  wealth, 
as  well  as  religion  and  government,  should  be  or- 
ganized and  administered,  not  for  the  few,  but  for 
the  many. 

In  the  Middle  Ages  the  accumulations  of  pro- 
perty were  almost  necessarily  invested  in  land. 
There  were  some  ships  and  warehouses ;  there  was 
some  wealth  in  clothing  and  in  gems;  some  money 
was  hoarded,  to  be  loaned  out  at  usurious  rates 
of  interest;  but  in  the  main,  wealth  was  put  into 
lands  or  houses.  And  under  the  feudal  system 
land  was  the  property  of  the  few  lords  of  the  soil; 
indeed,  in  strictness  of  speech,  it  was  all  the  pro- 
perty of  one  lord,  the  king,  from  whom  others  held 
it  only  as  tenants.  This  theory  of  landownership 
still  lingers  in  English  law,  though  only  as  fossils 
from  which  the  life  has  forever  gone.  That  theory 
is  thus  stated  in  the  article  on  Feudalism  in  the 
"Encyclopaedia  Britannica:"  "There  is  no  such 
thing  as  absolute  property  in  land ;  a  man  can  only 
have  an  estate  of  interest  in  land.  Every  land- 
owner is,  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  a  tenant  only.  The 
owner  in  fee  is  the  tenant  of  some  one  else,  who  in 
his  turn  is  the  tenant  of  another,  and  so  on  until 
the  last  and  absolute  owner  is  reached,  viz.,  the 
king,  from  whom,  directly  or  indirectly,  all  lands 
are  held." 


54 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


This,  which  is  now  only  a  theory,  was  in  the 
Middle  Ages  a  sombre  and  sometimes  a  tragic 
fact.  "The  state:  I  am  the  state,"  was  no  ego- 
tistical fiction;  it  was  the  sober  utterance  of  an 
undoubted  fact.  France  belonged  to  the  Bourbon 
king.  It  was  his  personal  property,  and  to  call 
him  to  account  for  wasting  it  was  regarded  as  an 
impertinence.  To  attempt  to  reduce  his  income 
from  it  was  treated  as  a  violation  of  private  rights, 
even  more  than  in  our  time  would  be  socialistic 
legislation  aimed  at  limiting  the  amount  of  pro- 
perty a  citizen  may  own  or  the  amount  of  income 
he  may  be  permitted  to  derive  from  it.  The  lords 
of  the  soil  were  tenants  of  this  king,  and  held 
it  by  the  same  divine  right.  To  them  as  his 
representatives,  the  ownership  of  substantially 
all  invested  wealth  belonged  by  divine  right.  The 
public  revenues  of  the  state  were  the  personal 
revenue  of  the  king;  the  revenues  of  the  estates 
into  which  the  kingdom  was  divided  were  the  per- 
sonal revenues  of  the  lords  political  and  ecclesiasti- 
cal. Under  this  system  in  France  the  public  lands 
belonged  to  the  king  directly;  of  the  remainder 
fully  one  haK  belonged  to  the  privileged  classes, 
"This  large  fortune,  moreover,"  says  Taine,  "is 
at  the  same  time  the  richest,  for  it  comprises  al- 
most all  the  large  and  imposing  buildings,  the 
palaces,  castles,  convents,  and  cathedrals,  and 
almost  all  the  valuable  movable  property,  such  as 
furniture,  plate,  objects  of  art,  the  accumulated 
masterpieces  of  centuries."    The  land,  so  far  as 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  55 


it  was  productive  at  all,  depended  for  its  cultiva- 
tion on  serfs  who  belonged  to  the  soil,  and  so  to 
the  lords  of  the  soil.  Sometimes  they  were  per- 
mitted to  preserve  enough  of  the  fruits  of  their 
labor  to  keep  them  alive ;  sometimes  they  were  not ; 
then  wholesale  famines  ensued.  But  both  in  Eng- 
land and  in  France  much  of  this  land  was  pur- 
posely kept  out  of  cultivation,  — part  of  it  in  pri- 
vate parks,  part  of  it  in  great  forests  for  the  royal 
sport  of  hunting.  The  King  of  France  in  the 
closing  part  of  the  eighteenth  century  averaged  one 
hunting-party  every  three  days,  —  stag  hunts,  boar 
hunts,  -^volf  hunts.  Such  hunts  were  made  possible 
only  by  reserving  great  tracts  of  forest  from  culti- 
vation in  order  to  serve  the  purposes  of  hunting- 
grounds. 

The  abolition  of  feudalism,  the  invention  of 
machinery,  the  introduction  of  manufacturing,  the 
cessation  of  private  war,'  the  development  of  com- 
merce, and  the  rise  of  the  commercial  spirit  have 
combined  to  change  all  this.  Whatever  moral 
injury  commercialism  may  have  inflicted  on  the 
community,  it  has  certainly  accomplished  a  decen- 
tralization of  wealth  such  as  could  not  have  been 
accomplished  by  any  merely  moral  reform,  how- 
ever supported.  The  wealth  of  the  world  is  no 
longer  represented  in  unimproved  lands;  it  is  re- 
presented in  mines,  factories,  ships,  railroads,  cul- 
tivated farms.  Wealth  is  no  longer  idle;  it  is 
busy.  Jesus  Christ  counseled  his  followers  not  to 
lay  up  for  themselves  treasures  on  earth,  where 


56 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


moth  and  rust  corrupt  and  thieves  break  through 
and  steal.  At  that  time  wealth  was  largely  repre- 
sented by  coins  or  gems  hoarded  in  earthen  ves- 
sels and  buried  in  the  ground,  or  in  rich  dresses 
hung  in  cupboards  and  worn  with  caution,  that  they 
might  not  tempt  the  omnivorous  and  unscrupulous 
tax-gatherer.  Moths  destroyed  the  garments,  rust 
consumed  the  coin;  thieves  could  carry  either  off. 
Jesus  counseled  against  hoarding;  his  counsel  is 
now  followed  almost  universally ;  hoards  are  very 
few  in  America.  He  who  ties  up  his  gold  and 
hides  it  in  a  trunk,  or  invests  it  in  an  extraordi- 
nary assortment  of  clothing,  is  rightly  regarded 
as  a  fool.  Neither  moth  nor  rust  corrupts  active 
wealth;  and  thieves  cannot  steal  it.  And  this 
busy  wealth  necessarily  renders  service  to  others 
than  its  possessor.  The  railroad  serves  the  farmer 
and  the  railroad  employee ;  the  factory,  the  opera- 
tive and  the  purchaser  in  the  market;  the  culti- 
vated land,  the  farmer  who  cultivates  the  soil,  and 
the  men  and  women  and  children  whom  he  feeds 
by  his  industry.  Commercialism  compels  the  man 
of  wealth  so  to  use  his  wealth  that  the  world 
shares  it  whether  he  will  or  no.  Even  idle  wealth 
becomes  a  minister  to  the  people.  The  parks  are 
no  longer  private  property;  they  are  the  breath- 
ing-places of  the  city;  and  the  analogue  of  Eng- 
land's Great  Forest,  the  Yellowstone  Park,  is  held 
in  trust  for  seventy-five  millions  of  people. 

At  the  same  time  and  by  the  same  process  pro- 
perty is  broken  up  into  fragments  and  has  many 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  57 


owners  while  it  is  serving  many  people.  We 
hear  much  about  the  concentration  of  wealth  in 
America.  In  fact,  the  process  of  the  centuries 
has  been  toward  decentralization,  not  toward  cen- 
tralization, of  wealth.  Never  in  the  history  of 
the  world  has  wealth  been  so  widely  distributed  in 
ownership,  and  never  approximately  so  widely 
distributed  in  the  benefits  it  confers,  as  in  demo- 
cratic America  to-day.^  The  complaint  against 
centralization  of  wealth  is  really  due  to  the  fact 
that  the  community  are  beginning  to  appreciate 
the  advantages  of  wealth  distribution,  to  see  the 
evils  of  its  concentration,  and  to  recognize  that 
they  have  the  power,  though  they  do  not  yet  know 
how  to  exercise  it,  to  prevent  such  concentration. 
While  thus  commercialism  and  modern  invention 
have  brought  about  the  distribution  of  wealth  in 
one  way,  the  enlargement  of  human  sympathy  has 
brought  it  about  in  another.  There  never  was 
a  time  when  man  had  not  fellow-feeling  for  his 
brother  man.  But  his  brother  man  was  the  mem- 
ber of  his  own  household  or  the  member  of  his 
own  tribe.  Those  that  lay  beyond  the  horizon  of 
his  household  or  his  tribe  did  not  come  within  the 
circle  of  his  sympathy.  Later,  the  sympathies 
were  enlarged  to  include  all  of  his  class,  of  what- 
ever nation.  Noblesse  oblige  was  the  law  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  nobility  owed  something  to 
the  nobility,  but  nothing  to  the  peasant  class. 

^  Some  statistics  on  this  subject  will  be  given  in  a  future  lec- 
ture. 


68 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Thanks  to  the  influence  of  Christianity,  to  the 
preaching  especially  of  the  lower  clergy,  to  the  in- 
fluence of  a  wider  intelligence,  to  political  revolu- 
tions, to  industrial  uprisings,  in  a  word,  to  the  de- 
velopment of  humanity,  noblesse  oblige  has  grown 
into  a  spirit  of  humanity.  When  Mr.  Carnegie 
considers  what  he  shall  do  with  his  wealth,  he 
resolves  to  confer  benefits,  not  on  the  men  of  his 
own  class,  but  on  the  men  who  have  no  class  rela- 
tion to  him.  As  I  am  writing  these  lines,  it  is  an- 
nounced that  he  has  given  five  millions  of  dollars  in 
trust  for  the  benefit,  not  of  the  circle  in  which  he 
moves,  or  the  class  to  which,  so  far  as  in  America 
there  can  be  said  to  be  classes,  he  is  supposed  to 
belong,  but  for  the  benefit  of  the  workingmen  on 
whom  his  industrial  prosperity  has  depended,  and 
for  their  families.  Thus  a  catholic  philanthropy 
has  cooperated  with  the  spirit  of  commercialism 
to  secure  a  distribution  of  the  benefits  pf  wealth, 
while  industrial  forces  have  done  something,  as  we 
shall  see  more  clearly  hereafter,  to  secure  the  dis- 
tribution of  its  ownership  and  control. 

IV.  These  three  processes,  religious,  political, 
and  industrial,  have  been  accompanied  by  a  fourth 
process,  —  educational.  There  are  two  contrasted 
philosophies  respecting  the  significance  and  end 
of  life.  The  one  is  expressed  by  the  phrase  "strug- 
gle for  existence,  survival  of  the  fittest."  It  as- 
sumes that  the  end  of  life  is  the  development  of 
a  type  of  individual  character,  what  Nietzsche^ 

1  Frederick  Nietzsche  :  Thus  spake  Zarathustra. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCRACY  59 


calls  the  "beyond  man."  It  assumes  that  the 
weak  and  the  poor  are  to  be  destroyed  by  the  pro- 
cess, and  that  whatever  intervenes  to  prevent  their 
destruction  delays  the  desired  consummation.  The 
other  assumes  that  the  end  of  life  is  the  develop- 
ment of  a  race  in  which  the  strong  will  be  the  ser- 
vants of  the  weak,  and  by  their  service  will  make 
the  weak  fit  to  survive.  The  end  of  life,  accord- 
ing to  this  conception,  which  is  Christ's,  is  a  race, 
a  divinely  organized  society,  a  kingdom  of  God 
or  a  kingdom  of  heaven,  on  the  earth. 

Which  of  these  is  the  sounder  philosophy, 
which  most  scientifically  interprets  life,  which  will 
achieve  the  noblest  results  in  character,  it  is  not 
necessary  for  my  purpose  here  to  discuss.  It  is 
enough  to  say  that  the  latter  of  these  is  the  domi- 
nant philosophy  to-day,  and  all  educational  sys- 
tems in  western  Europe,  England,  and  America 
are  based  upon  it.  How  these  educational  sys- 
tems have  grown,  how  the  principle  of  education 
has  been  changed,  the  curriculum  widened,  and 
the  circle  of  pupils  to  be  provided  for  increased, 
will  be  subject  for  consideration  hereafter.  It 
must  now  suffice  to  point  out  the  fact  that  with"^ 
democratic  institutions  has  gone  a  democratic  ideal 
of  education.  Popular  suffrage  and  representative 
assemblies  have  been  accompanied  with  public 
schools  provided  by  the  State  for  the  education  of 
all  the  children  of  school  age. 

And  this  widening  of  education  by  an  enlarged 
school  system  has  been  accompanied  by  similar 


60 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


educational  processes  outside  the  school.  The  dis- 
covery of  the  printing-press  has  created  cheap  lit- 
erature and  the  cheap  newspaper,  and,  by  making 
reading  possible  to  all,  has  made  education  pos- 
sible for  all.  Photogravure,  color-printing,  and 
photographs  have  made  art  universal,  while  the 
press  has  made  literature  so,  and  education  has 
given  to  the  common  people  the  ability  to  enjoy 
the  one  and  utilize  the  other.  If  the  highest  ideals 
for  the  few  have  been  lowered  by  this  process,  — 
though  this  is  by  no  means  here  asserted,  —  it  is 
certain  that  the  enjoyments  and  abilities  of  the 
many  have  been  greatly  increased.  Education,  no 
less  than  religion,  government,  and  industry,  has 
been  transformed  from  the  servant  of  an  elect  few 
into  a  ministry  to  the  many. 

We  need  not  go  to  the  Church  nor  to  the  Book 
as  an  authority  in  order  to  learn  what  God  is 
doing  in  his  world.  We  may  deduce  his  purpose 
from  his  achievements.  Thus,  history  reveals  his 
will,  because  it  shows  what  ends  he  has  accom- 
plished through  the  wills,  often  unintelligent  and 
sometimes  recalcitrant,  of  his  children.  When 
history  is  interrogated,  it  replies  that  he  who  is 
mightier  than  the  mightiest  has,  on  the  one  hand, 
undermined  and  destroyed  the  imperial  organiza- 
tion typified  in  ancient  Rome,  and,  on  the  other, 
has  built  up  a  democratic  organization  typified  in 
the  religious,  political,  industrial,  and  educational 
'  life  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  peoples.  In  the  future 
lectures  in  this  series  I  shall  assume  the  conclusion 


THE  GROWTH  OF  DEMOCKACY  61 


to  which  I  have  thus  far  sought  to  conduct  the 
hearer.  I  shall  assume  that  the  object  of  religion, 
of  government,  of  industry,  and  of  education  is 
the  benefit  of  all  the  people,  and  I  shall  ask  the 
hearer  to  consider  with  me  what,  assuming  this  to 
be  the  case,  the  organization  of  society  should  be ; 
assuming  that  the  end  of  government  is  the  benefit 
of  the  governed,  what  should  be  the  organization 
of  government;  assuming  that  the  end  of  industry 
is  the  welfare  of  humanity,  what  should  be  the 
organization  of  industry;  assuming  that  educa- 
tional and  religious  institutions  are  for  the  benefit 
of  all,  what  should  be  the  institutions  of  religion 
and  education.  If  there  are  any  of  my  hearers 
who  are  still  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  life  is 
for  the  few,  not  for  the  many,  that  its  end  is  the 
development  of  a  few  fine  types,  not  the  develop- 
ment of  a  divine  race,  they  and  I  will  from  this 
point  part  company. 


LECTUEE  m 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 

Walking  in  the  streets  of  one  of  our  great 
cities  not  long  since,  my  interest  was  aroused  by 
a  group  on  the  opposite  corner.  A  butcher-boy, 
with  a  basket  of  meat  upon  his  arm,  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  group  of  street  arabs,  who  apparently 
intended  a  petty  highway  robbery ;  and  as  it  was 
in  a  district  where  I  happened  to  know  that  such 
highway  robberies  had  been  perpetrated  by  boys 
on  boys,  I  stopped  a  moment  to  observe.  Half 
a  dozen  of  these  hoodlums  so  surrounded  the 
butcher-boy  that  he  could  not  escape  in  either 
direction,  and  were  unmistakably  endeavoring  to 
provoke  him  into  a  fight.  He  was  quite  helpless. 
He  could  not  fight  them  with  a  basket  on  his  arm, 
and  if  he  set  it  down,  some  one  of  his  enemies 
was  sure  to  pick  it  up  and  make  off  with  it.  His 
irresolute  look  first  in  one  direction  and  then  in 
another  appealed  to  me,  and  I  started  to  his  assist- 
ance. The  moment  I  approached,  the  hoodlums 
ran  hooting  down  the  street,  and  the  butcher-boy, 
without  even  looking  to  see  what  were  the  rein- 
forcements which  had  come  to  his  aid,  started  on 
his  delivery  again.    This  simple  incident  set  me 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


63 


thinking.  What  right  had  I  to  interfere?  Prob- 
ably the  Anarchist,  and  possibly  the  Friend,  would 
say  I  had  none ;  but  I  had  no  scruples ;  and  if  the 
hoodlums  had  resisted,  I  should,  without  hesita- 
tion, have  laid  my  cane  on  the  shoulders  of  any  one 
of  them,  my  chief  regret  being  that  my  arm  was 
not  stronger.  Neither  the  State  nor  the  city  had 
reposed  any  authority  in  me;  if  a  policeman  had 
come  along  at  that  moment,  he  would  have  been 
quite  justified  in  arresting  us  all  and  taking  us  to 
the  nearest  magistrate,  that  the  matter  might  be 
investigated.  Certainly  my  authority  did  not  de- 
pend on  the  consent  of  the  governed.  If  a  vote 
had  been  taken,  I  should  have  been  voted  down 
six  to  one;  the  butcher-boy  would  have  been  my 
only  supporter.  The  right  to  interfere  in  such 
a  case  is  the  right  which  every  man  possesses  to 
interfere,  to  prevent  by  force  an  injustice  which  is 
being  perpetrated  or  threatened  by  force. 

Every  man  has  certain  natural  rights.  He  may 
forfeit  them  by  his  crimes ;  he  may  prove  himseK 
unable  to  use  them  with  safety  to  himself  or  to 
others  by  reason  of  his  incompetency.  There  may 
be  other  limitations.  I  shall  not  undertake  to 
offer  a  complete  catalogue  of  these  rights.  But, 
speaking  broadly,  every  man  has  a  right  to  his  ' 
person,  to  his  property,  to  his  reputation,  to  his 
family,  and  to  his  liberty,  —  this  last  being  the 
right  to  use  his  person  and  his  property  in  any 
way  he  chooses,  provided  he  does  not  infringe  the 


64 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


rights  or  impair  the  welfare  of  others  by  such  use.^ 
If  any  one  attempts  by  violence  to  deprive  him 
of  these  rights,  he  is  justified  in  using  whatever 
force  may  be  necessary  to  repel  the  assailant  and 
protect  himself.  This  right  of  self-defense  is  ab- 
solute, inherent,  fundamental.  There  are  a  few 
people  who  think  it  better  to  suffer  any  injustice 
rather  than  to  employ  force  in  self-defense.  There 
are  a  few  who  think  that  such  was  the  teaching  of 
Jesus  Christ.  The  great  majority  of  men,  how- 
ever, do  not  so  interpret  either  the  ethical  instincts 
of  humanity  or  the  ethical  teachings  of  Jesus 
^.Christ.  I  shall  not  discuss  this  question  here.  I 
shall  assume  the  right  of  self-defense. 

This  right  of  self-defense  involves,  if  necessary, 
the  right  to  defend  others  who  are  dependent  upon 
us  for  protection,  when  they  are  attacked.  The 
same  instinct  which  justifies  a  man  in  defending 
his  person  or  his  property  justifies  him  in  defend- 
ing the  person  and  the  property  of  his  wife  and 
children.  Most  persons  would  regard  this  as  an 
obligation  rather  than  as  a  right.  They  might 
concede  that  a  man  may,  if  he  choose,  suffer  in  his 
person  or  his  property  rather  than  resort  to  vio- 
lence in  his  defense;  but  they  would  not  concede 
that  he  may,  if  he  choose,  permit  his  wife  and 
children  to  be  robbed  or  assaulted  with  impunity 

^  The  reader  will  observe,  of  course,  that  this  classification  is 
borrowed  from  the  Ten  Commandments,  which  remain  after 
nearly  thirty  centuries  the  most  comprehensive,  as  they  are  the 
most  concise,  statement  in  literature  of  social  rights  and  duties. 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


65 


if  he  has  the  power  to  defend  them.  There  is, 
howeTer,  no  adequate  reason  for  confining  this 
right  of  self-defense  to  the  man  and  to  his  own 
family.  He  is  a  member  of  a  larger  family. 
Every  man  is  his  brother;  all  the  weak  are  his 
children ;  whoever  is  in  peril  may  look  to  him  for 
help  if  it  is  within  his  power  to  give  help.  What- 
ever a  man  may  do  to  protect  himself  he  may  do 
to  protect  another  who  is  in  peril.  Certainly  men  >/ 
may  organize  for  the  purpose  of  mutual  protection 
in  their  rights  of  person,  property,  reputation, 
and  family.  Such  an  organization  is  government. 
It  is  founded,  not  on  the  consent  of  the  governed,  ^ 
but  on  the  inherent  right  of  every  man  to  protect 
himself  and  to  protect  his  neighbor  whenever  either 
is  assailed,  and  his  person,  his  property,  his  repu- 
tation, or  his  family  is  endangered. 

What  is  government?  It  is  nothing  less  than  . 
the  control  of  one  man's  will  by  another  man's 
will.  In  all  government  there  are  two  elements : 
authority  and  power.  Authority  is  the  right,  real 
or  assumed,  to  control  the  will  of  another ;  power 
is  the  ability  to  enforce  that  right  despite  the 
resistance,  if  it  should  be  offered,  of  the  person 
controlled.  Where  either  of  these  elements 
is  lacking,  rightful  government  does  not  exist. 
Where  no  right  to  control  is  claimed,  there  is  no 
government;  Marc  Antony's  control  of  the  mob 
in  Rome  was  not  government,  for  Marc  Antony 
neither  had,  nor  pretended  to  have,  any  authority 
to  require  the  people  to  act  contrary  to  their  own 


66 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


wills.  Where  there  is  no  power  to  control,  there 
is  no  government;  while  Charles  I.  was  in  prison, 
though  he  was  still  the  nominal  king  of  England, 
he  did  not  govern  England,  for,  whatever  his 
authority,  he  had  no  power.  Power  enforcing 
authority  is  essential  to  government. 

This  power  enforcing  authority  may  be  one  of 
several  kinds :  it  may  be  in  the  governor's  ability 
to  inflict  penalty  for  disobedience  or  give  reward 
for  obedience,  —  in  this  case  it  is  political ;  it  may 
be  in  the  conscience  of  the  governed,  who  yield 
to  the  will  of  the  governor  either  because  they 
think  it  is  right  to  do  so,  or  because  they  fear  su- 
pernatural penalties  in  another  world  in  case  they 
do  not,  —  in  this  case  the  power  is  religious;  it 
may  be  in  the  mere  sense  of  loyalty  to  a  person, 
or  in  the  semi-hypnotic  influence  exercised  by  one 
over  the  many,  as  by  Napoleon  over  his  soldiers, 
—  in  this  case  it  is  personal.  But  to  constitute 
a  government,  the  two  elements  of  authority  and 
power  must  combine.  There  must  be  in  the  gov- 
ernor both  a  recognized  right  and  a  real  power  to 
control  the  will  of  the  governed.  If  there  is  no 
V  rightful  authority,  there  is  no  rightful  government; 
might,  therefore,  does  not  make  right.  If  there 
is  no  power  to  enforce  that  authority,  there  is  no 
government;  directions  which  cannot  be  enforced 
are  advice,  not  law. 

The  real  question  as  to  the  basis  of  government, 
then,  is  this :  When  has  one  man  a  right  by  his 
wiU  to  control  the  wills  of  other  men ;  to  overrule 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


67 


them ;  to  substitute  himself  as  the  director  of  the 
action  of  other  men ;  to  make  his  personality  domi- 
nate another's  personality?  This  question  brings 
us  to  the  same  result  we  have  already  reached. 
He  has  a  right  to  do  this  whenever  that  other  is, 
in  the  exercise  of  his  own  will,  violating  the  rights 
of  his  fellow  men.  How  far  one  may  claim  the 
right,  as  against  his  fellows,  to  injure  himself  is 
a  doubtful  question ;  but  he  has  no  right  to  injure 
his  neighbor.  If  he  attempts  to  do  so,  not  only 
the  injured  man  but  any  one  else  may  interfere  to 
prevent.  This  right  of  self -protection  confers  au- 
thority, and  makes  the  government  just ;  power  to 
exercise  this  right  effectually  makes  it  strong.  A  ^ 
good  government  is  one  which  is  strong  enough  to 
protect  the  rights  of  the  members  of  the  com- 
munity from  all  assailants,  and  which  uses  its 
strength  chiefly,  if  not  exclusively,  for  that  pur- 
pose and  never  inconsistently  with  that  purpose. 
There  are  other  functions  which  the  political  or- 
ganism may  exercise,  but  they  are  not,  properly 
speaking,  governmental  functions.  Of  these  I 
shall  speak  in  a  future  article. 

The  history  of  the  development  of  government 
confirms  this  view  of  its  basis  and  its  primary 
functions.  The  family  is  the  earliest  of  all  social 
organizations.  It  grows  by  a  natural  process,  — 
by  children,  grandchildren,  uncles,  nephews,  cou- 
sins, and,  connected  with  it,  servants  or  retainers. 
The  father  is  the  governor  of  this  little  community ; 
the  authority  is  vested  in  him;  that  authority 


68 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


is  sustained  partly  by  the  interest  and  partly  by 
the  conscience  of  the  family.  He  is  the  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  organization,  and  arms  and 
equips  it  when  it  is  attacked  by  another  family. 
The  common  perils  which  threaten  families  of  the 
same  stock  create  a  common  interest;  intermar- 
riage creates  a  closer  bond ;  the  family  grows  into 
a  tribe.  The  head  of  the  tribe  is  the  head  of  the 
larger  household;  its  authority  is  vested  in  him; 
he  is  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  tribe  and 
leads  it  to  battle,  defensive  and  offensive.  The 
same  instinct  which  has  knitted  the  family  to- 
gether unites  the  families  in  a  single  tribe,  —  the 
instinct  of  self-preservation  for  the  individual,  and 
the  unselfish  instinct  which  leads  every  man  to  de- 
sire to  protect  his  wife,  his  children,  his  brothers. 
Other  elements  enter  into  and  modify  the  simple 
organization.  The  tribe  engages  in  predatory  ex- 
peditions; in  robbery  and  revenge  as  well  as  in 
self-defense.  But  the  ethical  foundation  is  the 
desire  of  each  man  to  secure  the  protection  to  his 
rights  which  confederacy  with  his  neighbor  affords, 
and  to  give  similar  protection  in  turn.  Thus  gov- 
ernment has  in  fact  grown  up  out  of  the  instinct 
of  self-preservation  and  mutual  protection.  This 
instinct,  not  the  power  of  the  governor  nor  the 
consent  of  the  governed,  is  the  basis  of  govern- 
ment. 

The  theory  that  power  of  itself  confers  authority 
I  need  not  consider;  for,  although  it  has  been 
affirmed  in  the  past  by  eminent  thinkers,  it  is  be- 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


69 


lieved  in  America  by  so  very  few  that  it  may  be 
dismissed  without  comment.  The  second  theory, 
that  the  consent  of  the  governed  confers  author- 
ity, is  more  popular  in  America  and  needs  fuller 
consideration.  This  phrase  "consent  of  the  gov-  / 
erned"  is  the  expression  of  a  theory  of  govern- 
ment which  may  be  epitomized  thus:  In  a  state 
of  nature  every  man  was  free ;  by  a  covenant  with 
one  another  men  agreed  to  surrender  this  freedom 
for  the  greater  advantages  of  government;  and 
this  covenant  and  surrender  constitute  the  founda- 
tion of  government.  Concerning  this  theory  four 
things  are  to  be  said. 

First :  Man  did  not  enjoy  freedom  in  a  state  of  ^ 
nature.  The  alternative  of  freedom  is  a  control 
of  one  will  by  another  will.  In  a  state  of  nature 
every  man  was  always  liable  to  run  against  the 
will  of  another,  and  which  will  should  control  de- 
pended upon  the  question  which  will  was  the 
stronger.  If  he  fished  in  a  stream,  hunted  in  a 
wood,  cleared  off  a  little  patch  and  cultivated  some 
corn,  loved  and  married  a  woman  and  built  him 
a  home,  a  stronger  man  might  at  any  time  drive 
him  from  the  stream,  expel  him  from  the  wood, 
seize  upon  his  growing  corn,  carry  off  his  wife 
and  children.  The  state  of  nature  is  not  a  state  X 
of  liberty.  Governments  grew  up,  not  by  a  sur- 
render of  freedom,  but  to  secure  freedom;  they^,/ 
grew  up  by  a  gradual,  unconscious,  spontaneous 
process,  in  order  to  protect  the  governed  in  his 
rights  and  thus  to  make  his  freedom  larger  and 


70 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


surer.  The  will  of  the  stronger  was  in  the  grow- 
ing government  formulated  in  laws,  written  or 
unwritten;  thus  the  individual  was  enabled  to 
know  when  he  was  liable  to  collide  with  another's 
will,  and  thus  he  could,  if  he  wished,  escape  the 
collision.  The  stream  and  the  wood  were  protected 
by  the  tribe  and  belonged  in  common  to  the  tribe ; 
a  portion  of  the  individual's  corn  patch  went  in 
a  simple  tax,  but  of  the  rest  he  was  secure;  his 
wife  and  home  were  sacred  unless  the  government 
to  which  he  belonged  was  overpowered  in  war  by 
a  government  stronger  than  his  own.  The  change 
from  a  state  of  nature  to  a  state  of  government 
was  a  change  from  a  control  constantly  shifting 
and  always  irresponsible  to  a  control  established, 
formulated,  and  comprehended ;  it  was  an  advance 
into  a  greater  and  a  more  assured  freedom. 

Second:  There  never  was  a  contract,  covenant, 
or  compact  on  which,  or  out  of  which,  govern- 
ment grew.  Historically,  no  government  rests 
upon  any  such  compact.  The  "social  contract" 
is  a  philosophical  fiction.  Government  has  grown 
historically,  not  out  of  a  compact,  expressed  or 
implied,  to  surrender  liberty  for  the  sake  of  or- 
der; it  has  grown  out  of  the  organization  of  the 
instinct  of  self-protection  and  mutual  protection, 
and  begins  in  the  patriarchal  organization  of  the 
family. 

Third :  The  doctrine  of  the  consent  of  the  gov- 
erned has  never  afforded  even  a  philosophical  bul- 
wark of  freedom.    It  has  been  made  the  defense 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


71 


of  absolutism,  as  well  as  of  freedom,  and  has 
served  the  one  advocate  as  well  as  the  other. 
Says  Thomas  Hobbes  in  "The  Leviathan:"  — 

They  that  are  subjects  to  a  monarch  cannot  without 
his  leave  cast  ofiE  monarchy  and  return  to  the  confusion 
of  a  disunited  multitude  ;  nor  transfer  their  person  from 
him  that  beareth  it  to  another  man  or  other  assembly 
of  men,  for  they  are  bound,  every  man  to  every  man, 
to  own  and  be  reputed  author  of  all  that  he  that  already 
is  their  sovereign  shall  do  and  judge  fit  to  be  done  :  so 
that  any  one  man  dissenting,  all  the  rest  should  break 
their  covenant  to  that  man,  which  is  injustice  :  and  they 
have  also  every  man  given  the  sovereignty  to  him  that 
beareth  their  person  ;  and  therefore,  if  they  depose  him, 
they  take  from  him  that  which  is  his  own,  and  so  again 
it  is  injustice.^ 

Fourth:  Historically,  the  consent  of  the  gov-  y 
erned  has  never  had  even  the  least  effect  to  make 
the  government  founded  thereon  a  just  govern- 
ment. In  Spain,  under  Philip  II,,  there  is  little 
question  that  the  great  mass  of  the  people  would 
have  voted  to  continue  the  Inquisition;  their  ac- 
quiescence did  not  make  the  Inquisition  just.  In 
the  Eed  Terror,  Robespierre  and  the  guillotine  had 
the  enthusiastic  support  of  the  people;  that  sup- 

1  Hobbes  :  The  Leviathan,  ch.  xviii.  The  meaning-  appears  to  be 
that,  a  covenant  having  been  entered  into  between  the  king  and 
the  people,  it  cannot  be  broken  by  the  people  without  injustice, 
80  long  as  the  king  dissents.  The  employment  of  this  theory  of 
compact  to  justify  handing  over  a  State  to  the  autocrat,  aristocrat, 
or  plutocrat  is  very  common  ;  it  has  probably  been  employed  by 
despotism  far  of tener  than  by  freedom. 


72 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


port  did  not  make  the  Red  Terror  a  just  govern- 
ment. The  Empire  of  Napoleon  I.  was  founded 
on  a  plebiscite  which  gave  overwhelming  indorse- 
ment to  both  it  and  him,  and  was  an  undoubted 
expression  of  the  will  of  the  great  body  of  the 
people  of  France;  that  plebiscite  did  not  make  the 
Napoleonic  Empire  a  just  government.  The  burn- 
ing of  negroes  in  the  South  and  the  West  is  no 
more  an  act  of  justice  because  it  is  done  by  a  mass- 
meeting  than  if  it  were  done  by  a  Star  Chamber. 
Majorities  do  not  make  wrong  right.  "For  my- 
self," says  De  Tocqueville,  "when  I  feel  the  hand 
of  power  lie  heavy  on  my  brow,  I  care  but  little 
who  oppresses  me;  and  I  am  not  more  disposed  to 
pass  beneath  the  yoke  because  it  is  held  out  to  me 
by  the  arms  of  a  million  of  men." 
/  It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  consent  of  the  gov- 
erned does  not  make  government  a  just  govern- 
ment; nor  does  the  lack  of  such  consent  make  it 
unjust.  A  government  is  just,  whatever  its  form, 
which  protects  the  members  of  the  community,  the 
poorest  and  the  richest,  the  lowliest  and  the  high- 
est, in  their  rights  of  person,  property,  reputation, 
and  family,  and  in  their  liberty  to  use  their  per- 
sons and  property  as  they  choose  so  long  as  they 
do  not  injure  their  neighbors.  It  is  equally  clear 
that  the  consent  of  the  governed  does  not  make  a 
government  a  free  government.  A  government  is 
free  when  the  members  of  the  community  are  free. 
If  democracy  denies  to  an  accused  the  right  to  a 
fair  trial,  as  democracy  has  done  again  and  again 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


73 


in  the  United  States,  the  community  is,  in  so  far, 
not  a  free  community.  If  democracy  should  at- 
tempt to  spoil  the  rich  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor, 
to  deny  the  men  of  property  the  right  to  be  pro- 
tected in  their  property  and  to  use  their  property 
as  they  choose  so  long  as  they  do  not  use  it  to  the 
injury  of  others,  the  community  would,  in  so  far, 
cease  to  be  a  free  community.  The  freedom  of/ 
a  people  is  not  to  be  identified  with  the  form  of 
their  government.  England  is  a  monarchy,  and 
Englishmen  are  free;  the  Spanish-American  gov- 
ernments are  republics,  and  the  Spanish- Ameri- 
cans are  not  free. 

Thus,  whether  we  consider  the  true  basis  of 
government,  —  namely,  the  instinct  of  self-preser- 
vation and  mutual  protection;  the  history  of  the 
rise  and  development  of  government,  —  namely,  its 
evolution  from  the  family  by  the  unconscious  oper- 
ation of  that  instinct;  the  true  function  of  gov- 
ernment, —  namely,  the  safeguarding  of  natural 
rights;  the  history  of  the  phrase  "consent  of  the 
governed  "  and  the  uses  to  which  it  has  been  put, 
or  the  history  of  governments  just  and  unjust,  — 
this  famous  phrase  is  seen  to  have  as  little  foun- 
dation as  the  philosophy  of  which  it  is  the  popular 
expression.  He  who  desires  to  consider  this  sub- 
ject further  can  do  so  advantageously  by  reading 
the  essay  on  "The  Theory  of  the  Social  Compact," 
by  A.  Lawrence  Lowell,  in  his  "Essays  on  Gov- 
ernment." He  thus  sums  up  his  history  of  the 
social  compact  theory  of  government :  — 


74 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


We  have  traced  the  history  of  this  extraordinary- 
theory  from  the  time  of  its  first  appearance  at  the  end 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  we  have  seen  it  used 
to  support  the  most  divergent  doctrines  and  the  most 
conflicting  opinions ;  for,  like  certain  ingenious  Yankee 
inventions,  it  vras  capable  of  being  applied  to  almost 
any  service,  although  really  adapted  to  none.  No  better 
example  can  be  found  of  the  fact  so  strongly  urged  by 
Lecky,  that  men  are  chiefly  persuaded,  not  by  the  logi- 
cal force  of  arguments,  but  by  the  disposition  with  which 
they  view  them.  We  have  seen  the  theory  started  by 
a  zealous  churchman  to  uphold  his  church.  We  have 
seen  it  wielded  by  Hobbes  in  favor  of  absolute  mon- 
archy in  England.  We  have  then  seen  it  taken  up  by 
Locke  as  a  shield  to  individual  right,  and  in  defense  of 
a  limitation  of  the  power  of  government ;  and  later  still 
by  Rousseau,  as  an  argument  for  an  unbridled  demo- 
cracy. We  have  seen  its  working  here  on  the  Constitu- 
tion of  Massachusetts  ;  and,  after  lighting  the  world  for 
two  centuries,  we  have  seen  it  give  a  last  despairing 
flicker  in  the  courts  of  the  United  States,  and  fade  away 
in  the  dim  light  of  German  metaphysics.^ 

With  this  quotation  we  may  dismiss  from  fur- 
ther consideration  both  the  phrase  "consent  of 
the  governed  "  and  the  philosophy  from  which  it 
springs,  save  for  one  remark  pointing  out  the 
probable  cause  of  the  extraordinary  currency  which 
has  been  given  to  both.  While  the  consent  of  the 
governed  has  nothing  to  do  directly  with  either 
the  justice  of  a  government  or  the  freedom  of  the 
people  who  are  subject  to  it,  it  has  much  to  do 

1  A.  Lawrence  Lowell :  Essays  on  Government,  p.  182. 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


75 


with  its  stability.  A  government,  however  just, 
which  depends,  for  its  maintenance,  on  force  to 
compel  obedience  to  its  commands,  and  issues 
those  commands  to  an  uneasy,  restless,  and  discon- 
tented people,  may  be  just,  but  will  not  be  stable. 
Its  people  may  be  free,  but  they  will  not  be  peace- 
ful. Whether  the  fault  is  in  the  governed  or  in 
the  governor,  the  government  will  lack  stability 
if  governed  and  governor  are  not  in  accord.  The 
authority  of  the  governor  may  be  never  so  just, 
the  power  of  the  governor  may  be  never  so  great, 
the  stability  of  the  government  and  the  peace 
of  the  people  under  the  government  will  not  be 
secured  unless  the  government  has  the  consent  of 
the  governed,  express  or  implied,  positive  or  nega- 
tive. To  other  elements  we  must  look  to  make 
the  United  States  Republic  just,  but  the  consent  ^ 
of  the  governed  makes  it  stable.  At  the  end  of 
an  exciting  election  in  which  a  President  is  elected 
and  a  policy  indorsed  by  only  seven  hundred  thou- 
sand plurality  in  a  total  of  nearly  fourteen  million 
votes  cast,  the  whole  country  acquiesces;  and  if 
any  advocate  of  the  defeated  party  should  attempt 
to  raise  a  revolt.  Democrats  would  vie  with  Eepub- 
licans  in  putting  the  revolt  down.  This  fact  se- 
cures a  peaceful  four  years  to  the  country.  But 
it  does  not  secure  four  years  of  justice  to  the  coun- 
try. If  the  foreign  and  domestic  policies  of  the 
Republican  party  were  unjust  before  the  election, 
they  are  unjust  still;  if  they  were  just  before  the 
election,  a  Democratic  victory  would  not  have 


76 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


made  them  unjust.  Neither  the  decision  of  the 
majority  governing,  nor  the  consent  of  the  minor- 
ity governed,  can  have  the  least  effect  on  the  fun- 
damental question,  what  are  human  rights  at  home 
and  abroad,  and  what  measures  may  be  justly 
taken  to  protect  them. 

The  basis  of  government  is  the  universal  instinct 
for  self -protection  and  mutual  protection ;  and  that 
is  a  just  government,  whatever  its  form,  which 
adequately  protects  the  natural  rights  of  its  sub- 
jects. 

If  government  fulfills  this  function  of  protection 
justly  and  adequately,  it  is  a  good  government, 
whatever  its  form;  and,  whatever  its  form,  it  is 
a  bad  government  if  it  fails  to  perform  this  func- 
tion justly  and  adequately;  it  is  preeminently  a 
bad  government  if,  instead  of  protecting  rights,  it 
violates  them. 

It  is  not  always  easy  to  determine  what  are  the 
rights  of  person,  property,  reputation,  family,  and 
liberty  which  government  ought  by  force  to  pro- 
tect. A  great  deal  of  the  business  of  the  courts 
consists  in  the  determination  of  these  questions. 
They  recognize,  for  example,  that  man  has  rights 
of  property  in  some  kinds  of  animals  and  not  in 
other  kinds;  that  a  verbal  charge  of  crime  is  a 
violation  of  the  rights  of  reputation  which  govern- 
ment will  punish,  but  a  verbal  charge  of  impro- 
priety or  indecorum  is  not;  that  to  seduce  a 
daughter  by  promise  of  marriage  is  an  offense 
against  the  family  which  the  law  wiU  punish,  but 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


77 


to  win  her  consent  without  promise  of  marriage  is 
not.  Who  is  to  determine  what  are  the  rights 
which  government  will  protect  and  how  they  shall 
be  protected?  The  answer  is  that  the  existing 
government,  whatever  it  may  be,  is  to  determine 
these  questions.  And  this  for  a  very  simple  rea- 
son. Whoever  possesses  power  is,  by  the  mere  / 
possession  of  that  power,  made  responsible  for  its 
right  employment.  To  recur  to  the  illustration 
with  which  I  commenced  the  last  article ;  assuming 
that  I  had  power  to  protect  the  butcher-boy  from 
the  hoodlums,  I  was  responsible  for  the  right  exer- 
cise of  that  power.  The  possession  of  the  power  ^ 
imposed  a  concurrent  responsibility.  If,  on  arri- 
ving on  the  scene,  the  boys  whom  I  took  to  be 
hoodlums  had  assured  me  that  the  boy  whom  I 
took  to  be  a  butcher-boy  was  a  thief  and  they  were 
simply  attempting  to  recover  their  property,  it 
would  clearly  have  been  my  duty  to  have  investi- 
gated the  question  or  secured  an  investigation  of 
it.  If,  as  the  result  of  my  interference,  the  thief 
had  made  off  with  the  property  which  he  had 
stolen,  I  should  have  been  morally  responsible. 
In  any  given  community  the  actually  existing 
government  must  in  the  first  instance  determine 
what  is  justice  in  any  given  case.  Its  power  to 
enforce  its  judgments  makes  it  responsible  to  form 
just  judgments.  Might  does  not  make  right;  hut^y 
might  does  impose  responsibility  on  the  one  who 
possesses  it,  to  determine  what  is  right. 

Suppose,  what  not  infrequently  occurs,  the  gov- 


78 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


ernment  forms  a  judgment  which  to  the  individual 
or  to  a  group  of  individuals,  seems  to  be  unjust, 
what  is  the  remedy  ?  Is  there  any  ?  or  is  the  deci- 
sion of  the  government  final,  so  that  while  in  the- 
ory might  does  not  make  right,  practically  and  in 
effect  it  does?  In  case  the  decision  of  the  gov- 
ernment appears  to  be  unjust  to  the  individual 
or  individuals  directly  affected,  there  are  four 
courses,  and  only  four,  open  to  the  injured  party. 
He  may  submit;  he  may  endeavor  by  peaceable 
methods  to  change  the  decision  of  the  govern- 
ment or  the  personnel  of  the  government  ;  he  may 
leave  the  community  for  another  which  is  under  a 
government  that  seems  to  him  more  just;  or  he 
may  resist  the  government  and  endeavor  to  over- 
throw it. 

In  the  great  majority  of  cases,  the  first  is  the 
course  which  both  prudence  and  morality  dictate. 
There  is  probably  not  a  reader  of  these  articles 
of  the  age  of  manhood  who  has  not  at  some  time 
suffered  what  he  regards  as  an  injustice,  either 
through  the  commission  or  the  omission  of  his  gov- 
ernment, and  has  submitted  to  it  with  such  grace 
as  he  could  command.  All  human  organizations 
are  imperfect.  And  for  those  individual  acts  of 
injustice  due  to  the  imperfection  of  human  govern- 
ment, quiet  and  uncomplaining  submission  is  the 
best  remedy. 

When,  however,  it  is  not  a  single  act  but  a 
series  of  acts,  and  when  this  series  of  acts  becomes 
a  governmental  habit,  we  may  resort  to  the  next 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


79 


remedy.  We  appeal  to  public  opinion,  and  by- 
public  opinion  endeavor  to  bring  about  a  change, 
either  in  the  habit  of  the  government,  or  in  its 
personnel,  or  in  its  structure,  or  in  all  three.  As 
I  am  writing  this  article,  such  an  agitation  is  going 
on  in  the  city  of  New  York,  the  object  of  which  is 
to  change  both  the  form  of  the  municipal  govern- 
ment, —  that  is,  its  charter,  —  and  the  personnel 
of  the  government,  —  that  is,  the  men  who  admin- 
ister it.  As  we  have  seen,  the  force  which  enables 
the  government  to  serve  its  purpose  of  protection 
of  rights  may  be  a  force  of  arms  exerted  over  the 
governed,  or  a  force  of  conscience  exerted  within 
the  governed.  In  nearly  all  modern  governments 
these  two  forces  are  combined.  The  more  demo- 
cratic the  government,  the  more  its  force  is  in  the 
conscience  of  the  governed  and  the  less  is  it  in  the 
physical  power  or  force  of  arms  of  the  governor. 
The  appeal  to  the  conscience  of  men,  therefore, 
which  would  have  been  in  vain  under  the  Caesars 
in  the  first  century,  is  not  in  vain  in  modern 
Christendom  in  the  nineteenth  century.  The  ap- 
peal to  the  conscience  of  Europe  made  by  Mr. 
Gladstone  in  his  published  letters  concerning  the 
cruelty  and  rapacity  of  the  Bourbon  rule  in  Naples 
led  to  the  overthrow  of  Bourbonism  in  Italy  and 
the  establishment  of  Italian  unity.  The  appeal 
of  the  anti -slavery  reformers  in  England  and 
America  against  slavery  resulted  in  the  overthrow 
of  slavery  by  peaceful  measures  in  the  British  Em- 
pire, by  revolution  in  the  United  States.  The 


80 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


appeal  to  the  conscience  of  England  by  the  Chart- 
ists ended  in  the  initiation  of  nearly  all  of  the 
political  and  social  reforms  which  they  demanded 
and  the  end  of  much  of  the  injustice  against  which 
they  complained. 

A  variety  of  circumstances  may  make  this 
method  impracticable  or  ineffective.  The  govern- 
ment may  refuse  to  permit  free  speech  or  a  free 
press ;  or  those  who  suffer  the  injustice  may  only 
know  that  they  are  suffering,  but  not  be  suffi- 
ciently intelligent  to  understand  why  they  suffer 
and  so  be  unable  to  point  out  the  injustice  and 
demand  a  remedy;  or  they  may  be  so  poor  and  so 
uninfluential  that  their  protests  are  unheard  and 
unheeded.  In  this  case  the  third  remedy  remains : 
they  may,  if  they  can  accumulate  the  means  and 
possess  themselves  of  the  courage,  leave  the  com- 
munity in  which  they  were  born  and  reared  and 
go  to  another  community,  where,  as  they  believe, 
their  just  rights  will  be  better  safeguarded  and 
their  interests  better  promoted.  This  is  the  rem- 
edy which  millions  of  immigrants  to  America 
have  sought  for  injustice  suffered  in  their  origi- 
nal homes.  It  is  true  that  the  government  may 
forbid,  and  in  some  cases  has  forbidden,  such 
migration.  In  so  doing  it  clearly  violates  the 
fundamental  principle  of  its  own  existence.  For 
government,  as  we  have  seen,  is  formed  to  protect 
the  rights  of  man.  One  of  the  most  elemental  of 
those  rights  is  the  right  to  go  where  one  pleases, 
provided  one  does  not  violate  the  rights  of  others. 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


81 


Leaving  one's  native  country  to  go  to  another 
country  does  not  violate  the  rights  of  any  other 
one.  Such  prohibition  of  migration  assumes  that 
the  governed  exist  for  the  benefit  of  government, 
whereas  governments  exist  for  the  benefit  of  the 
governed. 

When  neither  of  these  remedies  is  practicable, 
there  remains,  as  a  last  and  terrible  resort,  revo- 
lution. To  justify  revolution  against  an  existing 
government,  whatever  it  may  be,  these  conditions 
must  exist:  the  government  must  be  an  unjust 
government;  the  injustice  must  be  of  such  a  char- 
acter that  submission  to  it  involves  evils  to  the 
community  greater  than  resistance  will  involve; 
the  remedy  by  public  opinion  must  be  denied,  or 
be  unavailing;  the  evils  must  be  so  widespread 
that  escape  from  them  by  emigration  is  impracti- 
cable except  to  the  favored  few;  and,  finally,  the 
discontent  produced  by  the  injustice  must  be  so 
widespread  as  to  give  promise  of  success  to  a  move- 
ment organized  to  overturn  the  government  and 
substitute  a  new  one  in  its  place. 

This  right  of  revolution,  however,  requires  fur- 
ther elucidation. 

"Man,"  says  Aristotle,  "is  naturally  a  political 
animal."^  He  is  born  into  a  government  as  he 
is  born  into  a  family.  He  has  no  more  to  do  with 
the  choice  of  the  one  than  with  the  choice  of  the 
other.  He  is  a  subject  of  parents  whom  he  did 
not  choose;  he  is  similarly  a  subject  of  a  govern- 

^  Aristotle  :  Politics,  book  i.,  chap.  iL 


82 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


ment  which  he  did  not  choose.  As  his  hand  or 
his  foot  is  a  part  of  his  body,  so  he  in  turn  is  a 
part  of  the  political  organism,  and  he  cannot 
dissociate  himself  therefrom.  He  is  born,  not  iso- 
lated, but  to  be  sharer  in  obligations  and  respon- 
sibilities from  which  he  is  powerless  to  escape. 
They  belong  to  him  by  reason  of  his  manhood. 
He  does  not  form  them,  though  he  may  partici- 
pate in  changing  their  form.  Government  is  a 
growth,  not  a  manufacture.  Even  if  it  seems  to 
be  newly  created,  as  in  the  case  of  the  American 
and  French  Republics,  it  is  not  really  the  govern- 
ment, it  is  only  the  form  of  the  government,  which 
is  newly  created.  The  American  Republic  grew 
out  of  previous  English  and  colonial  governments ; 
the  French  Republic  grew  out  of  previous  imperial 
and  revolutionary  governments.  But,  as  we  have 
/  seen,  government  is  founded  on,  and  grows  out 
of,  the  instinct  of  self-preservation.  Its  primary 
function  is  to  protect  the  rights  of  men ;  its  author- 
ity is  derived  from  the  right  of  the  strong  to  pro- 
tect the  weak.  If  the  government  into  which  any 
man  is  born  violates  this  fundamental  principle 
upon  which  all  government  is  based,  if  it  uses  its 
strength,  not  to  protect  the  weak,  but  to  oppress 
the  weak,  it  no  longer  has  authority.  It  may  still 
have  power,  but  it  has  by  its  own  act  destroyed 
its  authority.  It  may  still  be  able  to  rule,  but 
it  has  no  right  to  rule.  The  same  principle  of 
s^-preservation,  which  is  the  foundation  of  gov- 
ernment, then  becomes  the  justification  of  revolu- 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


83 


tion.  Man  has  an  inherent  right  to  protect  him- 
self; if  the  government  founded  on  this  right  of 
mutual  protection  does  not  protect,  especially,  if 
instead  of  protecting,  it  oppresses  its  subjects,  the 
same  right  of  self -protection  justifies  them  in  over- 
turning the  government,  if  they  have  power  to  do 
so.  In  other  words,  when  injustice  in  any  govern- 
ment becomes  so  great,  so  radical,  so  habitual,  that 
the  government  ceases  to  be  a  mutually  protective 
organization,  then  the  people  have  a  right  to  over- 
turn it  and  substitute  a  new  government  in  its 
place,  because  they  have  an  absolute,  inherent, 
and  indefeasible  right  to  be  protected  in  their  per- 
sons, property,  reputation,  family,  and  liberty. 

The  mere  fact  that  the  form  of  government  does  ^■ 
not  suit  the  protestants  is  no  just  ground  for  revo- 
lution. The  justice  of  a  government  does  not 
depend  upon  its  form,  —  although  some  forms  are 
more  apt  to  do  equal  justice  than  other  forms;  it 
depends  upon  the  fidelity  with  which  it  fulfills  the 
function  of  government,  —  that  is,  with  which  it 
safeguards  the  rights  of  man  and  promotes  his 
prosperity.  The  resort  to  force  is  justified  only 
by  the  extremest  exigency.  A  mere  distaste  for 
one  form  of  government  or  desire  for  another  form 
of  government  is  not  such  an  exigency  as  justifies 
resort  to  force  to  overthrow  the  government. 

The  mere  fact  that  the  government  declines  to 
permit  the  protestants  to  share  in  the  administra- 
tion of  government  is  not  an  adequate  reason  for 
revolution.    No  man  has  a  natural  right  to  share  v/ 


84 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


in  the  administration  of  the  government  under 
which  he  lives.  He  has  a  right  to  be  protected 
in  his  person,  property,  reputation,  family,  and 
liberties;  but  if  the  government  of  which  he  is 
a  subject  affords  him  such  protection,  adequately 
and  effectively,  he  has  no  ground  on  which  to  de- 
mand of  the  government,  as  his  right,  permission 
to  participate  in  it.  That  he  has  no  such  natural 
right  is  evident  from  a  consideration  of  the  nature 
of  government.  Government  is,  as  we  have  seen, 
the  control  of  one  man's  will  by  another  man's 
will.  No  man  has  any  ground  for  claiming  that 
it  is  his  natural  right  to  control  the  will,  or  domi- 
nate the  personality,  or  direct  the  life-action  of 
another  man.  This  right,  wherever  it  exists,  is 
not  natural  and  inherent;  it  is  acquired,  and  rests 
upon  some  other  fundamental  and  essential  right. 
We  have  seen  what  that  fundamental  right  is ;  it 
is  the  right  of  self -protection.  The  only  reason 
why  one  man  may  claim  the  right  to  control  an- 
other man  against  his  will,  if  he  be  of  full  age  and 
mentally  and  morally  of  sane  character,^  is  in  order 
to  secure  the  protection  of  himself  and  others  from 
injury  and  wrong-doing.  If  that  protection  is 
sufficiently  afforded  by  government,  he  has  no 
ground  for  insisting  on  his  right  to  participate  in 
the  government,  —  that  is,  to  share  in  that  control 

^  The  right  of  a  parent,  or  one  standing-  in  loco  parentis,  to  con- 
trol the  child,  and  the  right  of  the  sane  to  control  the  insane,  need 
not  here  be  considered.  We  are  considering  the  control  of  sane 
men  of  adult  age  by  other  sane  men  of  adult  age. 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


85 


over  the  wills  and  lives  of  other  men.  The  only 
ground  on  which  such  a  claim  can  be  based  is  that 
such  participation  of  all  in  the  government  is  ne- 
cessary, in  order  to  make  the  government  an  ade- 
quate protection  of  all.  Suffrage,  or  participation  ^ 
in  the  government,  is  not  an  end,  it  is  only  a 
means  to  an  end;  it  is  not  a  right,  it  is  only  one 
means  to  the  preservation  of  rights. 

That  we  do  not  believe  in  this  country  that  ^ 
suffrage  is  a  natural  right  is  evident  from  our 
practice.  The  people  who  live  in  the  District  of 
Columbia  cannot  vote,  but  they  are  not  denied 
their  natural  rights.  The  newly  arrived  immi- 
grants not  yet  naturalized  cannot  vote,  but  they 
are  not  denied  their  natural  rights.  The  young 
man  of  nineteen  or  twenty,  whose  education  makes 
him  much  more  competent  to  vote  than  many  men 
who  do  vote,  is  not  denied  his  natural  rights. 
The  man  whose  business  interests  are  in  New 
York  City,  but  whose  residence  is  in  Westchester 
County,  and  who  pays  large  taxes  in  New  York 
City  but  is  not  allowed  to  vote  there,  is  not  denied 
his  natural  rights.  So  in  those  states  in  which 
women  are  not  allowed  to  vote  they  are  not  denied 
any  natural  right.  Those  whose  persons,  pro- 
perty, reputation,  family,  and  liberties  are  ade- 
quately secured  under  the  government  as  it  is  now 
organized,  have  no  right  to  claim  anything  more. 
A  claim  by  any  persons,  whether  men  or  women, 
to  the  suffrage  as  a  right,  must  be  founded  on  the 
assumption  that  their  natural  rights  cannot  be 


86 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


protected  in  any  other  way ;  a  claim  to  the  suffrage 
as  politic  must  be  founded  on  tlie  assumption  that 
the  rights  of  the  individual  and  the  welfare  of  the 
community  will  be  best  promoted  by  the  extension 
of  the  suffrage.  A  man  has  no  more  a  natural 
right  to  vote  in  a  general  election  than  he  has  to 
vote  in  the  legislature.  In  both  cases  the  condi- 
tions of  the  vote  are  determined  by  the  existing 
government,  whatever  it  may  be.  Properly  speak- 
ing,  suffrage  is  not  a  right  at  all;  it  is  a  preroga- 
tive and  a  responsibility;  and  who  shall  exercise 
that  prerogative  and  who  shall  share  that  respon- 
sibility are  to  be  determined  by  the  existing  gov- 
ernment, whatever  that  government  may  be.  This 
is,  in  point  of  fact,  the  practice  of  all  governments, 
including  our  own ;  and  it  is  a  practice  abundantly 
justified  both  by  philosophy  and  history.  How 
extensive  the  suffrage  ought  to  be  in  any  given 
community  is  dependent  wholly  upon  the  question, 
what  conditions  of  suffrage,  first,  will  secure  the 
best  protection  of  person,  property,  reputation, 
family,  and  liberty,  and,  second,  will  best  promote 
the  general  life  of  the  community,  material  and 
spiritual. 

The  fact  that  a  particular  government  is  de- 
pendent upon  another  government  does  not  of  itself 
justify  a  revolution.  Independence  is  not  synony- 
mous with  liberty.  The  two  are  often  confounded, 
but  they  are  quite  distinct.  A  government  is  inde- 
pendent when  it  has  no  organic  relation  of  subjec- 
tion to  another  government;  it  is  free  when  the 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


87 


members  of  the  community  subject  to  the  govern- 
•  ment  are  protected  in  their  persons,  property, 
reputation,  family,  and  liberties.  It  is  clear  that 
a  government  may  be  independent  and  not  furnish 
such  protection,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  it 
may  be  dependent  and  furnish  such  protection  all 
the  better  because  of  its  dependence.  Spain  in 
the  sixteenth  century  was  independent;  but  her 
people  were  not  free.  Canada  in  the  nineteenth 
century  is  not  independent,  but  her  people  are 
free.  No  State  in  the  Union  is  independent,  but 
the  freedom  of  the  subjects  of  the  various  states 
is  better  secured  because  they  are  dependent  on 
each  other  and  on  the  Federal  Government.  This 
fact  that  dependence  may  be  a  means  of  securing 
liberty  is  distinctly  affirmed  in  the  preamble  to 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States:  "We,  the 
people  of  the  United  States,  in  order  to  form  a 
more  perfect  union,  establish  justice,  insure  do- 
mestic tranquillity,  provide  for  the  common  de- 
fense, promote  the  general  welfare,  and  secure  the 
blessings  of  liberty  to  ourselves  and  our  posterity, 
do  ordain  and  establish  this  Constitution  for  the 
United  States  of  America."  These,  not  indepen- 
dence, are  the  ends  of  government.  When  they 
are  secured,  the  mere  fact  that  the  government 
under  which  they  are  secured  is  dependent  for 
them  in  part  on  another  government,  is  no  reason 
for  a  revolution.  Our  own  history  affords  a  strik-y 
ing  illustration  of  the  fact  that  independence  and 
liberty  are  not  only  not  synonymous,  but  may  be 


88 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


antagonistic.  The  Civil  War  was  a  war  between 
independence  and  liberty.  The  South  fought  that 
the  Confederate  States  might  be  independent,  and 
if  they  had  won  their  independence  they  would 
unquestionably  have  established  slavery  for  a  large 
proportion  of  their  people.  The  North  fought 
to  prevent  their  indej^endence,  and,  winning  the 
battle,  gave  freedom  to  the  slaves.  Liberty  was 
won  by  the  overthrow  of  independence.  There 
are  two  questions  in  the  Philippines  to-day. 
Ought  they  to  be  independent?  ought  they  to  be 
free?  These  are  not  different  forms  of  the  same 
question.  Those  who  believe  that  the  Philippines 
ought  not  to  be  independent  believe  that  if  they 
become  independent  they  will  not  be  free,  and  if 
they  become  dependent  on  the  United  States  their 
freedom  will  be  assured.  They  justify  maintain- 
ing the  dependency  of  the  Philippines  in  order  to 
maintain  the  freedom  of  the  Filipinos. 

The  principle  here  laid  down,  that  only  injustice 
in  the  existing  government  justifies  a  revolution  for 
the  purpose  of  overthrowing  it,  finds  expression  in 
our  own  Declaration  of  Independence.  The  war 
of  1776  is  called  not  inaptly  the  War  of  Indepen- 
dence. It  was;  our  fathers  fought  for  indepen- 
dence; but  they  fought  for  independence  only 
because  they  became  convinced  by  long  experience 
that  they  could  not  secure  justice  in  any  other 
way.  Independence  was  not  an  end,  but  a  means 
to  an  end.  This  is  very  explicitly  declared  by 
them  in  the  document  by  which  they  justify  to  the 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


89 


world  their  action.  Let  the  reader  reflect  upon 
both  the  preamble  and  the  conclusion  of  this  De- 
claration : 

When  a  long  train  of  abuses  and  usurpations,  pur- 
suing invariably  the  same  object,  evinces  a  design  to 
reduce  them  [the  people]  under  absolute  despotism,  it 
is  their  right,  it  is  their  duty,  to  throw  off  such  gov- 
ernment, and  to  provide  new  guards  for  their  future 
security. 

Nor  have  we  been  wanting  in  attention  to  our  British 
brethren.  We  have  warned  them  from  time  to  time  of 
attempts  by  their  legislature  to  extend  an  unwarrantable 
jurisdiction  over  us.  We  have  reminded  them  of  the  cir- 
cumstances of  our  emigration  and  settlement  here.  We 
have  appealed  to  their  native  justice  and  magnanimity, 
and  we  have  conjured  them  by  the  ties  of  our  common 
kindred  to  disavow  these  usurpations,  which  would  in- 
evitably interrupt  our  connections  and  correspondence. 
They,  too,  have  been  deaf  to  the  voice  of  justice  and  of 
consanguinity.  We  must,  therefore,  acquiesce  in  the 
necessity  which  denounces  our  separation,  and  hold 
them,  as  we  hold  the  rest  of  mankind,  enemies  in  war, 
in  peace  friends.  We,  therefore,  the  Representatives 
of  the  United  States  of  America,  in  General  Congress 
assembled,  appealing  to  the  Supreme  Judge  of  the  world 
for  the  rectitude  of  our  intentions,  do,  in  the  name  and 
by  the  authority  of  the  good  people  of  these  colonies, 
solemnly  pubUsh  and  declare,  That  these  United  Colo- 
nies are,  and  of  right  ought  to  be,  Free  and  Indepen- 
dent States. 


Why  ought  they  to  be  independent  States? 


90 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Not  because  they  are  denied  participation  in  the 
government  and  representation  in  the  Parliament; 
nor  because  they  prefer  a  republic  to  a  monarchy, 
or  independence  to  dependency.  These  are  not 
the  reasons  assigned.  The  signers  of  the  Decla- 
ration affirm  that  the  people  ought  to  be  free  and 
independent  because  the  government  to  which  they 
are  subject  "evinces  a  design  to  reduce  them  under 
absolute  despotism"  —  that  is,  to  set  at  naught 
that  protection  of  human  rights  which  is  the  fun- 
damental function  of  government,  and  all  appeals 
to  the  conscience  of  the  governor  for  justice,  have 
been  made  in  vain. 

But,  although  man  does  not  make  government, 
but  is  born  a  subject  of  government,  and  although 
he  is  justified  in  resorting  to  violence  to  overthrow 
the  government  of  which  he  is  a  subject  only  in 
case  it  abdicates  its  rightful  authority  by  failing  to 
fulfill  its  fundamental  function,  —  that  is,  the  pro- 
tection of  human  rights,  —  yet  he  may  and  does 
modify  the  form  of  government,  and,  in  fact,  there 
are  many  forms  existing  in  the  world.  Which  is 
the  best  form? 

Aristotle's  division  of  governments  into  four 
forms  may  be  accepted  as  adequate,  subject  to  a 
modification  to  be  hereafter  suggested.  These 
forms  are  government  by  one,  i.  e.,  monarchy; 
government  by  a  few,  t.  e.,  oligarchy;  government 
by  the  best,  i,  e.,  aristocracy;  and  government  by 
the  many,  i.  e.,  democracy.  The  Napoleonic  em- 
pire may  be  taken  as  a  type  of  the  first;  Venice 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


91 


as  a  type  of  the  second;  England,  in  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  as  a  type  of  the  third;  America 
as  a  type  of  the  fourth.  There  is,  however,  a 
fifth  form  of  government  which  Aristotle  does  not 
mention,  perhaps  because  it  did  not  exist  in  his 
time,  perhaps  because  it  is  a  bastard  which  does 
not  deserve  classification  with  legitimate  govern- 
ments. This  bastard  is  bureaucracy,  —  a  govern-  y 
ment  by  the  office-holder.  The  most  complete 
form  of  bureaucracy  on  a  large  scale  is  that  fur- 
nished by  Russia;  but  aU  modern  governments, 
not  excluding  America,  are  more  or  less  corrupted 
by  it.  It  is  the  only  form  of  government  for  ^ 
which  a  philosopher  can  find  no  defense. 

In  considering  these  four  forms  of  government 
it  must  be  remembered  that  the  distinction  be- 
tween them  is  marked  more  sharply  in  philosophy 
than  in  fact.  Thus  monarchy  in  its  modern  forms 
is  rarely  government  by  one.  The  power  of  the 
one  is  generally  limited,  as  in  Turkey,  by  a  hier- 
archy, or,  as  in  Russia,  by  a  bureaucracy,  or,  as 
in  France,  in  the  eighteenth  century,  by  the  nobles, 
or,  as  in  England,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  by 
the  common  people.  So,  again,  the  power  of  the 
oligarchy,  which,  as  Aristotle  has  also  shown,  is 
necessarily  a  plutocracy  or  rule  of  the  rich,  is  lim- 
ited by  the  necessity  of  promoting  the  commercial 
interests  of  the  community  in  order  to  promote  the 
interests  of  the  rich.  So,  again,  the  aristocrats 
are,  by  no  possible  method  of  selection  yet  devised, 
wholly  composed  of  the  best;  from  them  are  ex- 


92 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


eluded  some  of  the  best ;  into  them  creep  some  of 
the  worst.  Finally,  democracy  is  not  a  govern- 
ment of  all  the  people,  but  only  of  a  large  minor- 
ity of  the  people.  In  the  recent  Presidential  elec- 
tion, out  of  a  population  of  over  seventy  millions, 
only  about  fourteen  million  votes  were  cast,  — ■ 
that  is,  one  in  five  of  the  population  determined 
the  questions  at  issue.  And  of  this  fourteen  mil- 
lions Mr.  McKinley's  majority  was  only  seven 
hundred  thousand,  so  that  in  fact  those  questions 
were  determined  by  only  about  one  one -hundredth 
of  the  population.  The  value  of  this  fact  as  a  pro- 
tection against  the  perils  of  democracy  I  shall  con- 
sider in  a  future  paper. 

Recognizing  these  qualifications  in  the  actually 
existing  governments,  the  question  presents  itself 
as  a  practical  and  important  one,  which  of  these 
four  forms  of  government,  —  government  by  the 
one,  by  the  few,  by  the  best,  or  by  the  many,  — 
constitutes  the  best  form  of  government;  that  is, 
which  of  these  forms  of  government  gives  the  best 
promise  of,  first,  securing  protection  to  the  rights 
of  man,  and,  second,  of  promoting  the  general 
welfare  of  man  ?  Whatever  government  does  these 
two  things  in  the  best  manner  is  the  best  govern- 
ment. For,  as  we  have  seen,  no  man  has  a  right 
to  participate  in  the  government,  or  has  any 
ground  of  complaint  because  he  is  not  allowed  to 
participate  in  it,  provided  it  fulfills  these  two  func- 
tions of  government  adequately,  —  the  first  a  defi- 
nite and  fundamental  function,  the  second  an  in- 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


93 


definite  and  subsidiary,  though  perhaps  not  less 
important,  function. 

We  have  already  seen  that  there  is  no  one  form 
of  government  which  is  absolutely  right,  making 
all  others  absolutely  wrong.  There  is  no  divine 
right  of  either  kings,  oligarchs,  aristocrats,  or 
majorities;  the  only  divine  right  which  govern-  ^ 
ment  must  recognize  is  the  right  to  be  protected 
in  person,  property,  reputation,  family,  and  lib- 
erty. It  is  also  true  that  there  is  no  one  form  of 
government  which  is  absolutely  best,  making  all 
other  forms  inferior.  That  is  the  best  govern- 
ment which,  at  the  time,  under  the  circumstances, 
and  in  consideration  of  the  intellectual  and  moral 
development  of  the  people,  is  best  adapted  to  pro- 
tect their  rights  and  promote  their  welfare;  and 
the  same  form  of  government  does  not  best  accom-  ✓ 
plish  these  ends  under  all  circumstances,  in  all 
epochs,  and  with  all  peoples.  This  is  not,  per- 
haps, a  very  popular  opinion  in  America,  but  it 
may  be  true  nevertheless. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  of  the  forms  of 
government  mentioned  by  Aristotle,  we  have  at 
least  three  in  successful  operation  in  the  United 
States  at  the  present  time,  and  it  is  doubtful 
whether  any  considerable  number  of  persons  would 
wish  to  change  radically  either  one  of  the  three. 
The  family  is  autocratic.  The  father  is  not,  in- 
dexed, an  absolute  despot,  but  a  constitutional 
monarch;  and  in  case  of  extreme  violation  of  the 
rights  or  disregard  of  the  interests  of  his  children. 


94 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


an  appeal  lies  to  the  government  of  which  he  is 
a  subject.  But  in  all  the  ordinary  matters  of  the 
household  his  power  is  little  less  than  absolute. 
So  also  the  organization  of  the  secondary  school 
is  largely  autocratic.  In  some  instances  the  prin- 
cipal is  very  strictly  limited  in  his  powers  by  a 
school  board,  in  which  case  the  government  ap- 
proximates the  oligarchy,  but  whether  with  any 
real  benefit  to  the  pupils,  is  very  doubtful.  But 
in  the  best  private  schools  the  government  is  very 
nearly  absolutely  autocratic,  the  remedy  for  any 
real  or  fancied  injustice  being  the  remedy  of  emi- 
gration already  referred  to ;  that  is,  the  pupil  may 
go  to  another  school.  But  as  long  as  he  remains 
in  the  school  he  has  no  participation  in  its  govern- 
ment; or,  if  he  does,  it  is  only  by  sufferance  of 
the  principal.  Political  rights  as  such,  he  has 
none.  In  the  college  the  government  is  oligarchic. 
It  is  administered  almost  exclusively  by  the  fac- 
ulty, who  are  under  no  political  responsibility 
whatever  to  the  pupils,  and  under  none  directly 
to  the  parents  of  the  pupils. .  This  oligarchy  might 
be  described  as  a  limited  or  constitutional  oligar- 
chy; that  is,  its  powers  are  limited  generally  by 
a  written  constitution,  and  in  many  cases  an  ap- 
peal lies  to  the  board  of  trustees,  and  in  all  cases 
to  that  public  opinion  on  which  the  college  depends 
for  its  prosperous  life.  But  the  students  rarely 
have  any  political  power  in  the  administration  £>i 
the  college,  or,  if  they  do,  it  is  a  power  conferred 
by  the  favor  of  the  faculty,  and  liable  to  be  taken 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


95 


away  from  them  again.  As  a  political  organism 
the  college  is  oligarchic,  and  probably  few  would 
wish  to  see  it  made  more  democratic  than  it  is. 
The  government  of  the  country,  the  state,  and  the 
nation  is  that  of  a  representative  republic,  — 
that  is,  of  a  government  administered,  not  by  the 
people  directly,  but  by  representatives  elected  by 
the  people,  and  really  by  a  minority,  though  a 
large  minority,  of  the  entire  population.  Finally, 
we  have  in  the  town  meeting  in  some  states,  and 
in  the  district  school  meeting  in  others,  an  illus- 
tration of  a  pure  democracy,  in  which  the  people 
assemble  to  debate  questions  and  determine  poli- 
cies as  well  as  to  elect  officials  to  carry  those 
policies  out.  The  same  divergences  in  form  of 
government  are  to  be  seen  in  other  organizations : 
thus,  the  chorus  choir  and  the  orchestra  are  neces- 
sarily autocratic;  the  great  corporation  is  gener- 
ally in  reality  oligarchic,  though  it  may  be  and 
generally,  is  in  form  representative;  and  the 
trades  union  is  a  curious  combination  of  the  oli- 
garchic and  the  democratic.  Similar  differences 
are  to  be  seen  in  our  ecclesiastical  organizations : 
the  Koman  Catholic  Church  being  at  least  in  form 
autocratic;  the  Episcopal,  semi-aristocratic;  the 
Presbyterian,  representative;  and  the  Congrega- 
tional, democratic.  These  facts  make  it  evident  y 
that  the  form  of  government  necessarily  depends 
in  large  measure  upon  the  nature  of  the  organism, 
the  function  it  has  to  perform,  the  capacity  of  the 
people  who  constitute  it,  and  the  circumstances  of 
its  existence. 


96 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


It  is  true  that  in  most  of  the  oro:anizations  men- 
tioned  above,  the  government  is  not  an  end,  but 
only  a  means  to  an  end.  That  is,  the  organism 
does  not  exist  merely  to  govern,  but  also  to  per- 
form other  functions,  —  as  to  teach,  to  perform 
music,  to  conduct  trade,  and  the  like.  But  it  is 
clear  that  it  would  be  possible  in  some  of  these 
organizations  to  differentiate  these  functions. 
Thus,  it  would  be  conceivable  that  the  boys  in  a 
school  or  college  should  make  all  the  rules,  elect 
all  governing  officers,  and  administer  all  discipline, 
leaving  the  faculty  simply  to  teach.  But  it  is  not 
conceivable  that  any  considerable  number  of  either 
teachers,  parents,  or  pupils  would  desire  such  a 
change. 

My  hearers  may  now,  perhaps,  be  prepared  to 
consider,  if  not  to  accept,  the  next  proposition, 
—  namely,  that  one  controlling  element  in  deter- 

^  mining  the  question,  what  is  the  best  form  of  gov- 
ernment, is  the  mental  and  moral  development  of 
the  people  who  constitute  the  governed  community. 
In  other  words,  government,  as  one  of  the  products 
of  social  evolution,  necessarily  depends  on  the 
degree  of  social  evolution  attained  by  the  governed 

4  community.  The  political  history  of  the  world 
indicates  the  true  order  of  political  development. 

The  family  is  the  first  and  oldest  government. 
It  is  and  ought  to  be  autocratic.  The  tribe  comes 
next.  The  head  of  the  tribe  is,  like  the  father 
of  the  family,  an  autocrat,  though  his  autocratic 
powers  are  somewhat  limited  by  the  power  of  re- 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


97 


sistance  possessed  by  members  of  the*  tribe,  if  the 
autocracy  becomes  oppressive,  and  by  customs 
which  have  grown  up  in  the  tribe  and  have  all  the 
binding  force  of  constitutional  law.  In  other 
words,  he  is  a  constitutional  monarch.  It  is  ex- 
ceedingly doubtful  whether  any  form  of  govern- 
ment could  be  devised  better  adapted  to  the  Indian 
tribe,  so  long  as  it  remains  a  nomadic  tribe,  than 
that  which  it  possesses.  We  have  given  our  in- 
dorsement to  this  autocratic  method  of  government 
for  the  Indian  by  appointing  over  the  tribe  on  the 
Reservation  a  white  autocrat,  whom  we  call  Agent. 
In  many  cases  the  Agency  system  has  worked  very 
badly,  because,  first,  the  government  of  the  Agent 
has  not  been  for  the  benefit  of  the  governed 
but  for  the  benefit  of  the  governor,  and,  second, 
it  has  been  aimed,  not  to  prepare  the  Indian 
for  self-government,  but  to  keep  him  in  tutelage. 
But  where  the  Agent  has  been  honest,  capable, 
and  progressive,  the  results  have  been  wholly 
admirable. 

The  next  step  in  the  evolution  of  government  is 
the  development  of  an  aristocracy.  This  aristo- 
cracy is  often  far  from  absolutely  excellent;  but  it 
possesses  certain  elements  of  courage,  self-control, 
and  intelligence  which  make  it  superior  to  the 
average.  It  puts  limits  on  the  power  of  the  auto- 
crat; it  demands  better  protection  for  its  own 
rights,  if  not  for  the  rights  of  the  people ;  it  wrests 
from  a  King  John  a  Magna  Charta.  Under  its 
influence  political  power  is  somewhat  more  diffused. 


98 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


and  government  is  somewhat  more  equable  than 
under  the  autocracy.  The  class  below  the  nobles 
are  awakened  and  stimulated  by  their  example; 
they  in  turn  limit  the  power  of  the  nobles,  and 
appeal  to  the  still  lower  classes  to  aid  them  in 
securing  a  more  equal  distribution  of  justice,  — 
that  is,  a  more  general  and  equable  protection  of 
person,  property,  reputation,  the  family,  and  lib- 
erty. The  people  under  Simon  de  Montfort  de- 
mand and  secure  a  representation  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  What  are  the  rights  of  man,  what  are 
the  privileges  of  class,  what  are  the  distinctions 
between  the  two,  and  what  the  functions  and 
therefore  what  the  powers  of  government,  become 
matters  of  debate,  each  side  enforcing  its  own  in- 
terests with  reasons,  and  sometimes  with  coura- 
geous battle.  The  privileges  of  the  few  give  way 
gradually  to  the  interests  of  the  many,  and  at 
length  the  simple  principle  that  governments  exist 
for  the  benefit  of  the  governed,  and  that  their 
function  is  primarily  the  protection  of  the  funda- 
mental rights  of  man  and  of  all  men,  is  wrought 
into  the  consciousness  of  the  people.  Then,  and 
not  till  then,  is  the  community  ready  for  a  govern- 
ment founded  on  the  will  of  the  majority. 

Autocracy  is  the  best  government  for  a  people 
in  its  early  childhood ;  oligarchy  or  aristocracy  for 
a  people  in  its  teens:  democracy  for  a  people  in 
its  manhood.  What  happens  when  a  people  is 
suddenly  transplanted  from  autocratic  government 
to  democratic  government,  without  any  interven- 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


99 


ing  preparation,  is  illustrated  tragically  by  the 
French  Revolution,  and  less  tragically  by  the  car- 
petbag government  in  the  South.  That  person, 
property,  reputation,  the  family,  and  liberty  are 
better  protected  in  Egypt  under  an  autocracy  than 
they  would  be  by  a  government  formed  and  ad- 
ministered by  the  fellaheen  will  hardly  be  doubted 
by  any.  Whether  these  fundamental  rights  will 
be  better  protected  in  Cuba  under  an  independent 
democracy,  or  in  Porto  Rico  under  a  mixed  gov- 
ernment, partly  democratic  partly  autocratic,  we 
shall  soon  know. 

But  while  there  is  no  one  form  of  government 
which  is  absolutely  right  and  no  one  form  of  gov- 
ernment which  is  absolutely  best  for  all  peoples 
and  under  all  circumstances,  there  is  one  principle 
of  government  which  is  the  ultimate  principle,  and 
to  which  aU  history  is  slowly  but  surely  conduct- 
ing the  peoples.  That  principle,  —  for  it  is  a 
principle  rather  than  a  form,  —  is  self-govern- 
ment. 

Government  is  the  control  of  a  part  of  the  com- 
munity by  another  part  of  the  community;  it  may 
be  by  a  king,  by  an  oligarchy,  by  an  aristocracy, 
by  a  vote  of  seven  million  voters  to  which  the  op- 
posing six  million  three  hundred  thousand  voters 
submit,  but  in  any  case  it  is  the  control  of  a  part 
by  a  part.  It  is  clear  that  the  government  is  best 
when  the  best  exercise  control  and  the  less  compe- 
tent and  virtuous  are  controlled.  But  it  is  not  less 
evident  that  the  supreme  and  ultimate  government 


100 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


is  that  in  which  the  best  in  each  man  controls  the 
inferior  in  each  man.   This  is  self-government;  and 

^  the  more  nearly  any  community  approaches  self- 
government,  the  more  nearly  it  approaches  the 
ultimate  goal  of  all  political  organization.  The  end 
of  government  is  mutual  protection  against  injus- 
tice. But  when  the  people  have  become  so  edu- 
cated that  no  one  wishes  to  do  his  neighbor  an 
injustice,  the  supreme  end  of  government  has  been 
reached,  because  there  is  no  longer  any  need  of 
mutual  protection ;  and  when  public  sentiment  has 
been  so  educated  and  developed  that  even  men 
who  would  do  an  injustice  to  a  fellow-man  dare 
not  do  it,  not  because  they  fear  a  punishment  for- 
cibly administered,  but  because  they  fear  the  judg- 
ment and  condemnation  of  their  fellow-men,  the 
end  of  government  is  approximated.    For  the  ob- 

^ject  of  all  government  is  to  destroy  the  necessity 
of  any  government,  by  developing  such  a  public 
conscience  that  no  other  force  than  that  of  con- 
science will  be  needed  to  protect  the  rights  of  man. 

But  it  is  also  evident  that  a  government  which 
proposes  to  depend  on  the  united  conscience  and 
united  judgment  of  a  great  body  of  men  for  its 
means  of  enforcing  justice,  or,  rather,  to  trust 
thereto  in  lieu  of  relying  upon  an  external  enforce- 
ment of  justice,  must  have  in  the  community  a  great 
number  of  individual  men  whose  judgment  and 
conscience  have  been  educated.  A  great  body  of 
men  who  are  unable  to  govern  themselves,  either 
because  they  lack  the  judgment  or  the  conscience, 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


101 


cannot  constitute  a  community  which  can  govern 
itself.  Self-government  is  not  an  assumption  on  ^ 
which  we  are  to  start  in  framing  a  government;  it 
is  the  goal  which  we  are  to  reach  by  means  of  gov- 
ernment. It  is  the  terminus  ad  quern,  not  the 
terminus  a  quo. 

An  educative  preparation  is  necessary  for  self- 
government  in  the  race,  as  in  the  individual.  To  ^ 
thrust  a  childlike  people  out  into  the  world  and 
expect  them  to  provide  for  and  protect  themselves 
without  any  previous  training  is  as  unwise,  not  to 
say  as  cruel,  as  it  would  be  to  thrust  the  little 
children  out  from  a  home  and  expect  them  to  take 
care  of  themselves.  It  is  sometimes  asked  whether 
a  despotic  government  has  ever  prepared  a  people 
for  freedom.  The  answer  is  that  no  people  have 
ever  been  prepared  for  freedom  except  by  a  de- 
spotic government.  The  Napoleonic  empire  was 
a  necessary  preparation  for  the  French  Republic. 
The  suddenly  liberated  people  had  to  learn  to  obey 
before  they  could  learn  to  command.  A  long  line 
of  kings,  beginning  with  William  the  Conqueror 
and  ending  with  Charles  I.,  laid  in  England  the 
foundation  for  her  constitutional  liberties.  Our 
own  preparation  was  made  in  the  same  school,  and 
a  post-graduate  education  was  added  in  colonial 
government  under  an  English  autocratic  authority. 
No  people  in  the  history  of  the  world  have  ever>y^ 
passed  directly  and  without  intervening  education 
from  a  primitive  or  tribal  condition  of  govern- 
ment to  a  seK-governing  democracy  which  ade- 


102 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  IMAN 


quately  protected  person,  property,  reputation,  the 
family,  and  liberty,  and  it  is  safe  to  assume  that 
no  people  ever  will.  The  question  which  confronts 
self-governing  countries  in  this  beginning  of  the 
twentieth  century  is.  Shall  we  leave  races  just 
emerging  from  childhood  to  acquire  capacity  for 
self-government  through  the  long  and  dismal  pro- 
cesses which  have  been  necessary  in  our  case,  or 
shall  we  serve  as  their  guardians  and  tutors,  pro- 
tecting their  rights  and  educating  their  judgments 
and  their  consciences  until  they  are  able  to  frame 
their  own  mutual  protective  associations,  —  that 
is,  to  constitute  and  administer  without  aid  their 
own  governments? 

To  sum  up  in  a  paragraph  the  conclusions  of 
this  and  the  preceding  article:  Government  is  a 
mutually  protective  association;  it  grows  out  of 
the  instinct  of  men  to  protect  their  own  rights  and 
the  rights  of  their  neighbors;  it  is  a  just  and  a 
free  government  when  it  adequately  protects  those 
rights;  it  is  neither  a  just  nor  a  free  government 
if  it  does  not  adequately  protect  those  rights.  The 
possession  of  the  powers  of  government  gives  to 
those  who  possess  such  powers  the  responsibility 
of  determining  when  it  is  right  to  interfere  in 
order  to  prevent  injustice.  Man  is  born  under 
government,  and  he  is  to  be  subject  to  that  gov- 
ernment, unless  it  fails  to  fulfill  the  functions  of 
government;  if  it  does  so  fail,  and  he  cannot  find 
adequate  remedy  for  himself  and  his  fellows  by 
submission,  protest,  or  migration,  the  right  of  re- 


POLITICAL  RIGHTS 


103 


volution  exists ;  because  the  same  right  to  organize 
for  self-protection  in  government  exists  to  over- 
throw the  government  when  it  becomes  an  instru- 
ment of  oppression,  not  of  protection.  There  is  ^ 
no  absolutely  best  form  of  government ;  that  is  the 
best  form  of  government  which,  in  any  stage  of 
the  world,  in  any  age  of  human  development,  best 
secures  human  rights;  but  the  ultimate  form  of 
government,  toward  which  history  is  gradually  \J 
conducting  the  human  race,  is  that  form  in  which 
every  man  governs  himself,  and  therefore  all  men 
partake  in  the  common  functions  of  government. 
But  such  self-government  in  the  community,  as  in  ^ 
the  individual,  is  a  terminus  ad  quern,  not  a  ter- 
minus a  quo  ;  that  is,  it  is  a  result  to  be  reached 
by  means  of  government,  not  a  foundation  to  be 
assumed  on  which  government  can  be  built. 


LECTUEE  IV 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 

The  industrial  rights  of  man:  what  are  they, 
and  how  are  they  to  be  secured  in  a  democracy? 

Every  man  has  a  right  to  the  product  of  his 
own  industry,  because  it  is  a  part  of  himself ;  into 
it  he  has  put  a  portion  of  his  life.  His  life  is  his 
own,  therefore  this  portion  of  his  life  is  his  own. 
The  artist  paints  a  picture;  the  musician  com- 
poses a  symphony;  the  author  writes  a  book;  into 
this  picture,  this  symphony,  this  book  the  artist, 
musician,  author,  has  gone.  Because  the  artist 
has  projected  himself  into  the  picture,  the  musi- 
cian into  the  symphony,  the  author  into  the  book, 
this  product  of  himself  belongs  to  him.  And 
what  is  true  of  the  artist,  of  the  musician,  of  the 
author,  is  true  of  every  laborer.  The  shoemaker 
projects  himself  into  the  shoes;  the  carpenter  into 
the  house;  the  loom-worker  into  the  cloth.  These 
also  are  a  part  of  the  man.  Into  them  he  has  put 
his  brain-work  or  his  handiwork;  therefore  they 
are  his.  This  right  of  every  man  to  the  product 
of  his  own  labor  is  a  natural  right.  Society  did 
not  confer  it;  society  cannot  take  it  away.  So- 
ciety may  fail  to  protect  it,  or  may  violate  it ;  but 
the  right  itself  is  absolute.    Whenever  organic 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


105 


law  violates  this  right  it  is  unjust;  whenever  it 
fails  to  protect  this  right  it  is  inefficient. 

It  was  for  this  reason  that  slavery  was  unjust. 
The  injustice  of  slavery  did  not  lie  in  the  fact 
that  the  slaves  were  ill-fed,  ill-clothed,  or  ill- 
housed.  If  it  had  been  true  that  they  were  better 
housed  and  fed  and  clothed  in  slavery  than  in  free- 
dom, still  slavery  would  not  have  been  justified. 
The  evil  of  slavery  was  not  that  families  were 
separated.  If  the  law  had  provided  explicitly  that 
slaves'  families  should  not  be  separated,  still  sla- 
very would  have  been  unjust.  The  injustice  was 
not  in  specific  acts  of  cruelty.  If  there  had  never 
been  a  Legree,  still  slavery  would  have  been  un- 
just. It  was  not  that  the  slave  was  denied  educa- 
tion. In  Rome  the  slaves  were  educated,  and 
authors,  copyists,  and  literary  men  were  held  in 
slavery,  and  slavery  was  not  just.  The  wrong  of 
slavery  lay  in  this :  that  personality  was  invaded ; 
the  product  of  the  man  was  taken  from  him;  he 
had  put  a  part  of  his  life  out  into  the  world  and 
he  was  robbed  of  it.  Whenever  and  however  so- 
ciety does  this,  it  does  injustice. 

So,  again,  if  society  is  so  organized  that  men 
cannot  engage  in  productive  industry,  it  is  un- 
justly organized.  The  command,  "By  the  sweat 
of  thy  brow  thou  shalt  earn  thy  daily  bread,"  in- 
volves a  prerogative  even  more  than  a  command. 
If  society  is  so  organized  that  there  are  large 
masses  of  men  that  cannot,  by  the  sweat  of  their 
brow,  earn  their  daily  bread,  it  is  unjustly  organ- 


106 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


ized.  "Enforced  idleness,"  says  Carlyle,  "is  the 
Englishman's  hell."  There  have  been  times  in 
the  past,  in  the  history  of  this  country,  —  and  if 
the  industrial  organization  of  to-day  remains  un- 
changed there  will  be  such  times  in  the  future,  — 
when  thousands  of  men  have  been  driven  into  that 
enforced  idleness  which  is  the  Englishman's  hell. 
Any  organization  of  society  which  prevents  masses 
of  the  people  from  earning  their  daily  bread  by 
the  sweat  of  their  brow,  or  which  fails  to  enable 
them  so  to  earn  it  if  they  will  to  do  so,  is  an  un- 
just organization  of  society.  So,  any  organization 
of  society  which,  allowing  men  to  work,  still  fails 
adequately  to  remunerate  their  work,  fails  ade- 
quately and  rightfully  to  adjust  the  relations  be- 
tween the  workers,  and  takes  so  much  for  the  one 
class  that  it  leaves  practically  nothing  for  the  other 
class,  or  leaves  them  but  a  mere  pittance  and  bare 
subsistence,  is  an  unjust  organization  of  society. 
The  man  who  has  put  his  life  into  his  labor  has 
a  right  to  the  product  of  that  life.  If,  in  the 
complexity  of  modern  society,  he  is  combined  with 
others  in  that  production,  he  has  a  right  to  a  fair, 
just,  and  equable  share  in  the  product  of  the  com- 
bined industry.  If  society  fails  to  secure  it  for 
him,  society  is  inefficient  and  in  so  far  unjust. 

If  any  section  of  society  endeavors  to  prevent 
any  man  from  working  and  from  enjoying  the 
product  of  his  work,  that  section  of  society  is  un- 
just. If  any  organization  undertakes  to  prevent 
any  man  from  working  when  he  will,  where  he 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


107 


will,  for  whom  he  will,  and  at  what  wages  he  will, 
that  organization  violates  the  essential  right  of 
labor.  It  is  not  primarily  the  enemy  of  capital; 
it  is  primarily  the  enemy  of  labor;  for  every  man 
has  a  right  to  work,  and  every  man  has  a  right  to 
the  product  of  his  industry.  Imagine,  for  a  mo- 
ment, that  any  man  should  propose  to  place  a  law 
on  our  statute-books  providing  that  no  man  should 
work  in  any  special  industry  unless  he  belonged 
to  some  special  guild;  not  for  one  instant  would 
he  have  the  support  of  the  people.  Not  for  one 
instant  would  he  have  the  support  of  any  free 
people.  But  such  a  law  is  not  better,  but  rather 
worse,  if  it  be  enacted  by  an  irresponsible  body 
and  enforced  by  violence. 

The  right  of  every  man  to  work,  and  the  right 
of  every  man  to  the  product  of  his  work,  are  fun- 
damental rights.  There  is  enough  to  be  done, 
and  the  world  is  fruitful  enough,  to  make  it  possi- 
ble for  every  man,  in  the  present  stage  of  civiliza- 
tion, to  earn  enough  to  support  himself,  his  wife, 
and  his  children  in  comfort.  Any  organization, 
political  or  industrial,  capitalistic  or  laborers', 
which  impugns  this  right,  prevents  this  work,  or 
takes  from  the  laborer  the  product  of  his  industry, 
whether  it  be  industry  of  the  brain  or  industry 
of  the  muscles,  without  adequate  compensation  is 
unjust.  The  first  industrial  duty  of  society  is  to 
protect  every  man  in  his  right  to  labor  and  in  his 
ownership  of  the  fruits  of  his  labor. 

But  there  are  large  values  in  the  world  which 


108  THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


are  not  the  fruits  of  labor.  There  are,  therefore, 
large  values  in  the  world,  the  individual  right  to 
which  is  not  a  natural  right. 

The  ocean  is  not  the  product  of  industry.  It 
belongs  to  no  man,  and  to  no  body  of  men.  We 
may  call  a  nation  mistress  of  the  seas,  but  we  do 
not  thereby  concede  that  she  owns  the  seas.  By 
international  law  it  is  generally  agceed  that  the 
water  extending  from  the  shore  out  to  a  line  three 
miles  from  the  coast  shall  belong  to  the  nation 
whose  coast  that  water  adjoins;  but  this  right  to 
the  three  miles  of  water  is  not  a  natural  right.  It 
does  not  belong  to  the  nation  by  any  law  of  na- 
ture. It  belongs  to  the  nation  because  the  nations 
have,  for  mutual  convenience,  agreed  that  it  shaU 
possess  it.  It  is  a  purely  artificial  right,  and  that 
it  is  an  artificial  right  is  evident  from  the  fact  that 
the  artificial  boundary  has  been  settled  by  inter- 
national agreement. 

The  great  navigable  rivers  are  not  the  subjects 
of  private  property,  according  to  any  natural  law. 
They  belong  to  the  community,  not  to  any  individ- 
ual in  the  community,  nor  to  any  group  of  indi- 
viduals in  the  community.  In  the  early  part  of 
this  century  the  State  of  New  York  gave  to  Robert 
Fulton  and  his  heirs  the  exclusive  right  to  navi- 
gate the  harbor  of  New  York  and  the  waters  of 
the  Hudson  River.  Daniel  Webster  contended 
before  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States 
that  no  State  had  the  right  to  confer  an  exclusive 
right  to  navigate  the  rivers  within  its  own  bound- 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


109 


ary  lines.  No  one  service  that  Daniel  Webster 
ever  rendered  to  this  country,  except  perhaps  his 
reply  to  Hayne,  was  so  great  and  so  lasting  as  this 
service.  The  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States 
affirmed  what  he  had  claimed.  They  declared 
that  no  State  could  give  a  right  to  a  navigable 
river  within  its  boundary  line;  and  to-day  all 
navigable  rivers  in  our  country  flow  unvexed  by 
toll  or  personal  intervention,  or  monopoly  of  any 
kind,  because  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States  has  decided  that  a  navigable  river  cannot 
be  made,  even  by  the  state  through  which  it  flows, 
a  private  property. 

Streams  that  are  not  navigable  are  not  the  sub- 
jects of  private  property,  except  in  so  far  as  they 
are  made  so  by  artificial  arrangement.  The  brook 
that  flows  through  a  man's  land  is  not  his  to  do 
what  he  pleases  with.  He  cannot  pollute  its 
waters  and  make  it  a  nuisance  to  his  neighbor 
below.  He  cannot  dam  its  waters  and  make  it 
a  nuisance  to  his  neighbor  above.  He  cannot 
deflect  its  waters  and  prevent  his  neighbor  below 
from  having  the  benefit  of  them.  He  has  simply 
the  right  to  use  the  waters  as  they  flow  through 
his  land,  —  no  right  beyond.  This  right  is  fixed 
by  law.  It  is  an  artificial  right ;  it  is  not  a  natu- 
ral right.  Ocean,  navigable  river,  unnavigable 
stream,  are  not  subjects  of  private  property  except 
as  they  are  made  so  by  artificial  arrangement,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  they  are  given  to  man  by  God, 
—  they  are  not  the  products  of  man's  industry. 


110 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


What  is  true  of  ocean  and  river  is  equally  true 
of  land.  No  man  ever  made  an  acre  of  land  and 
its  contents.  Man  may  transfer  the  soil  from  one 
place  to  another,  in  which  case  we  speak  of  him 
as  "making  land;"  but  he  does  not  really  make 
the  land,  he  simply  moves  it.  The  land  belonged 
to  the  Almighty.  To  whom  has  he  given  it?  Not 
to  a  few  favored  individuals,  but  to  the  human 
race.  If  land  is  the  subject  of  private  ownership 
at  all,  that  private  ownership  depends  upon  the 
arrangements  which  society  has  made,  not  upon 
the  inherent  and  natural  right  of  the  so-called 
owner.  Society  has  a  right,  if  it  chooses,  to  say, 
"The  ownership  of  navigable  rivers  in  common 
will  be  injurious;  we  will  let  New  York  State 
have  a  monopoly  of  them."  It  has  a  right,  if  it 
chooses,  to  say,  "It  will  cost  too  much  for  us  to 
build  a  waterway  between  the  Atlantic  and  the 
Pacific;  we  will  let  a  corporation  build  the  water- 
way and  levy  the  tolls."  But  if  the  corporation 
gets  the  river  or  the  canal,  it  is  because  society 
has  given  it,  not  because  the  corporation  has  a 
natural  right  to  it. 

That  the  right  to  land  is  an  artificial  right  is 
plain,  in  the  first  place,  because  it  is  not  the 
product  of  human  industry.  Man  did  not  make 
these  prairies  and  store  them  with  their  vegetable 
richness;  nor  these  coal  mines,  filling  them  with 
fuel  for  the  future ;  nor  these  wells  where  the  oil 
is  stored;  nor  these  forests  into  which  we  go  for 
our  lumber.    These  were  put  there  by  the  Al- 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


111 


mighty.  And  for  whom?  As  we  have  already- 
seen,  not  for  individuals  but  for  the  whole  human 
race ;  not  to  single  men  or  single  classes  of  men, 
but  to  man,  God  gave  the  world,  saying,  "Take 
it,  rule  it,  use  it;  it  is  yours." 

That  the  right  to  land  is  an  artificial  right  de- 
pendent upon  artificial  arrangements  made  by  so- 
ciety is  further  illustrated  and  confirmed  by  the 
history  of  the  evolution  of  land  ownership.  In  a 
state  of  nature  men  live  in  the  forest  as  the  wild 
beasts  live.  The  territory  over  which  the  tribe 
roams  is  the  common  property  of  the  tribe;  the 
only  law  recognized  is  the  law  of  the  strongest. 
Controversies  arise  between  families  or  between 
tribes.  Partitions  are  made,  and  out  of  these  con- 
troversies private  ownership  arises.  The  early 
traditions  of  the  Hebrew  people  furnish  an  illus- 
tration of  such  a  controversy  and  its  peaceful 
settlement.  Abraham  divides  the  land  into  two 
sections,  gives  to  Lot  his  choice,  and  Lot  chooses 
the  fertile  plains  where  are  the  cities  of  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah.  It  is  thus  that  the  first  division 
of  lands  is  made.  How  later  the  governments 
divide  the  lands  they  have  acquired  by  grant  to 
favorites,  and  how  the  grants  thus  made  continue 
through  successive  generations  by  bequest  or  ex- 
change, is  familiar  history.  William  the  Con- 
queror crosses  the  Channel,  conquers  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  people,  takes  possession  of  England,  divides 
the  land  among  his  retainers,  and  to-day  the  great 
land  titles  of  England  date  back  to  the  distribu- 


112 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


tion  of  land  made  by  William  the  Conqueror,  be- 
cause he  had  conquered  England.  The  English 
come  over  to  this  country;  they  find  five  hundred 
thousand  Indians  roaming  over  this  unused  conti- 
nent. England  conquered  the  continent,  took  pos- 
session of  it,  and  then  divided  it.  The  great  land 
titles  in  America  go  back,  the  oldest  of  them,  to 
the  patents  issuing  from  Holland  and  from  Eng- 
land. The  later  titles  come  in  the  same  way. 
America,  taking  possession  of  the  vast  regions  of 
the  West,  divided  them  up  and  said  to  every  man, 
"You  may  have  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  of 
land  if  you  will  occupy  and  till  them."  How  does 
the  owner  get  his  right  to  this  one  hundred  and 
sixty  acres?  By  the  act  of  the  Nation.  His  title 
grows  out  of  the  homestead  law.  That  law  might 
have  said  two  hundred  acres;  it  might  have  said 
one  hundred  acres ;  it  might  have  said  a  thousand 
acres.  The  title  to  the  land  depends  on  the  act 
of  the  government.  All  land  titles  in  their  history 
are  thus  derived  from  the  action  of  society;  the 
right  to  land  is  an  artificial,  not  a  natural,  right. 

As  the  titles  are  derived  from  the  act  of  govern- 
ment, so,  in  the  theory  of  the  law,  the  government 
still  has  the  supreme  ownership.  We  have  already 
seen  that  in  the  Hebraic  commonwealth  the  land 
belonged  to  God;  the  men  who  occupied  it  were 
only  tenants  of  God.  We  have  seen  how  under 
the  feudal  system  the  land  belonged  to  the  king; 
the  men  who  occupied  it  were  only  tenants  of  the 
king.    Under  the  doctrine  of  eminent  domain,  the 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


113 


ultimate  ownership  of  the  land  of  the  United 
States  is  not  in  the  individual  owner,  but  in  the 
state.  The  owners  are  quasi  tenants;  their  rights 
are  limited  and  defined  by  the  law  which  has  cre- 
ated them.  Those  rights  are  not  absolute,  as  is 
their  right  to  the  product  of  their  own  industry. 

What  is  true  of  the  ocean,  the  rivers,  the  land 
and  its  contents,  is  equally  true  of  the  great  forces 
of  nature.  Light,  heat,  gravitation,  electricity, 
are  not  subjects  of  personal  ownership  except  as 
law  makes  them  so.  The  world  is  a  great  electric 
motor ;  it  generates  electricity,  —  that  is,  it  trans- 
forms some  other  power  into  electricity.  This 
electric  power  which  the  world  generates  belongs 
to  all  the  people  in  the  world.  If  one  man  dis- 
covers a  way  of  tapping  this  electric  reservoir  and 
drawing  off  the  electric  current  and  using  it  for 
illumination  ortfor  locomotion,  the  state  gives  him 
an  exclusive  right  to  use  that  method  for  a  term 
of  years.  When  that  term  expires,  his  right  ex- 
pires. Nor  does  this  right  even  for  this  limited 
term  prevent  any  other  man  from  discovering  some 
other  method  of  entering  nature's  reservoir  and 
drawing  off  the  force  which  she  has  created  for 
the  human  race.  The  right  to  the  forces  of  na- 
ture, like  the  right  to  land  and  its  contents,  is  an 
artificial  right  limited  and  determined  by  the  law 
of  society  which  has  created  the  right. 

Thus  we  have  two  kinds  of  right  to  property. 
The  first  is  absolute,  —  the  right  of  every  man  to 
himself,  and  therefore  to  the  product  of  his  labor, 


114 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  right  of  every  man  to  his  life,  and  therefore 
to  that  into  which  he  has  put  his  life.  The  other 
is  social,  legal,  artificial,  dependent  upon  the  ar- 
rangements which  society  has  been  pleased  to 
make.  All  rights  to  ocean,  to  navigable  rivers, 
to  unnavigable  rivers,  to  land  and  the  contents  of 
the  land,  and  to  the  great  forces  of  nature,  are  of 
this  latter  kind.  They  are  dependent  upon  the 
arrangements  which  society  has  been  pleased  to 
make.  They  are  founded  upon  the  will  of  the 
community. 

The  chief  sources  of  wealth  are  in  this  common 
wealth.  What  has  made  this  nation  in  the  aggre- 
gate wealthy  beyond  all  compare  is  primarily,  not 
what  our  industry  has  produced,  but  what  we  have 
found  already  produced  for  us :  the  rich  prairies, 
the  almost  inexhaustible  mines,  the  great  forests, 
the  mill  streams,  the  navigable  rivers,  the  great 
forces  of  nature,  —  light,  heat,  electricity.  We 
are  the  richest  people,  not  because  we  have  pro- 
duced more  per  capita  than  any  other  people  have 
ever  produced,  but  because  we  have  found  a  trea- 
sure which  no  other  people  ever  found.  It  was 
made  for  us ;  it  was  stored  here  awaiting  our  ar- 
rival. 

How  ought  this  common  wealth,  this  wealth 
which  by  nature  belongs  to  no  individual  because 
no  individual  produces  it,  to  be  distributed  ? 

In  a  previous  lecture  I  traced  the  progress  to- 
ward the  larger  distribution  of  wealth  in  the  aboli- 
tion of  feudalism  and  the  substitution  of  the  wages 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


115 


system.  We  have  seen  that  the  wages  system 
converts  capital  from  a  dead  possession  to  a  living 
instrument  of  industry;  that  the  wealth  once  buried 
in  forests  used  by  royalty  for  hunting,  or  in  parks 
kept  by  nobles  as  pleasure-grounds,  is  now  in- 
vested in  factories  which  give  employment  to  hun- 
dreds and  food  or  clothing  or  tools  to  thousands, 
or  in  railroads  which  serve  the  entire  nation  as  a 
public  highway.  We  have  seen,  too,  that  under 
the  wages  system  not  only  is  nearly  all  property 
used  for  the  benefit  of  the  all,  but  it  is  actually 
divided  among  a  vastly  greater  number  of  owners 
than  ever  before.  Statistics  are  rarely  interesting, 
but  they  are  sometimes  very  significant.  The  stu- 
dent who  wishes  to  know  to  what  extent  the  dis- 
tribution of  wealth  is  already  carried  in  democratic 
America  will  find  ample  material  for  his  inquiry 
in  the  admirable  monograph  of  Mr.  Charles  B. 
Spahr  on  "The  Distribution  of  Wealth."  He 
shows  that  while  in  England,  not  yet  wholly  freed 
from  the  relics  of  feudalism,  "more  than  three 
fourths  of  the  people  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland 
are  without  any  registered  property  whatever," 
"nearly  half  the  families  in  America  own  the  real 
estate  they  occupy,"  and  in  the  rural  communities 
the  proportion  of  real  estate  owners  is  still  greater. 
Again,  in  Great  Britain  less  than  six  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  persons,  that  is,  about  a  little 
over  one  and  a  half  per  cent,  of  the  population, 
are  possessed  of  property  valued  at  five  thousand 
dollars  or  more;  in  America  approximately  one 


116 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


eighth  of  the  families  of  the  Nation  —  city,  town, 
and  country  —  own  each  more  than  five  thousand 
dollars. 

The  statistics  of  the  savings  banks  confirm  these 
figures.  The  total  deposits  in  such  institutions 
for  1890-91  aggregated  over  two  thousand  five 
hundred  million  dollars.  The  total  number  of  de* 
positors  in  the  savings  banks  alone  for  the  year 
1890  was  over  four  million  and  a  quarter,  with  an 
average  deposit  of  $354.80  for  each  depositor. 
As  most  of  these  depositors  probably  represent 
families,  the  proportion  of  wealth  owners  to  the 
population  is  seen  to  be  large.  But  these  figures 
do  not  adequately  represent  the  extent  to  which 
wealth  is  distributed  in  the  United  States.  This 
is  further  indicated  by  the  extent  to  which  wealth 
is  owned  by  great  corporations.  The  corporation 
is  a  modern  contrivance  by  which,  for  purposes  of 
administration,  the  property  of  a  great  number  of 
owners  is  put  into  the  control  of  a  small  number 
of  sagacious  men.  It  is  essentially  a  democratic 
invention.  The  stock  is  owned  by  many  stock- 
holders ;  the  administration  is  conducted  by  a  few 
directors.  In  estimating  the  extent  to  which  pro- 
perty is  distributed  in  the  United  States,  the  eco- 
nomic student  must  take  account  not  only  of  the 
landowners  and  the  savings  bank  depositors,  but 
also  of  the  smaller  stockholders  in  the  corporations 
of  the  country. 

The  observer  in  any  fairly  prosperous  American 
town  may  see  the  evidences  of  this  distribution  of 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


117 


wealth  for  himself.  As  he  goes  by  the  miner's  or 
manufacturer's  cottage  he  sees  a  hammock  under 
the  trees,  — this  means  leisure;  he  hears  the  music 
of  an  organ  or  a  piano,  —  this  means  culture ;  he 
meets  the  grocery  wagon  or  the  butcher's  cart 
driving  through  the  town,  —  this  means  good  food 
and  plenty  of  it;  he  finds  the  best  building  in  the 
town  a  schoolhouse  and  perhaps  the  next  best  a 
public  library,  —  this  means  education.  To  this 
comparatively  equable  distribution  of  wealth  the 
unexampled  prosperity  of  the  United  States  is 
due.  Whatever  tends  to  increase  the  distribution 
of  wealth  will  tend  to  increase  that  prosperity; 
whatever  tends  to  diminish  that  increase  and  sub- 
stitute therefor  a  concentration  of  wealth  tends  to 
diminish  that  prosperity.  For  the  true  wealth  of 
the  community  depends  far  more  on  the  equity  of 
the  wealth-distribution  than  upon  the  aggregate 
amount  of  wealth  possessed. 

This  matter  requires  a  little  further  elucidation. 

Money  is  simply  a  convenient  means  of  exchang- 
ing the  products  of  industry.  In  any  communit}^ 
every  member  who  is  busy  producing  something 
which  the  community  needs  is  also  producing 
something  which  he  can  give  in  exchange  for  the 
labor  of  another  which  supplies  his  own  needs. 
The  shoemaker  requires  clothes  of  the  tailor,  a 
house  of  the  carpenter,  flour  of  the  miller.  But 
if  for  any  reason  the  shoemaker  is  unable  to  pro- 
duce shoes,  and  is  compelled  to  lie  idle,  he  no 
longer  has  anything  to  give  in  exchange  for  the 


118 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


work  of  the  tailor,  the  carpenter,  and  the  miller. 
Thus  every  busy  man  tends  to  produce  another 
busy  man,  and  every  idle  man  tends  to  produce 
another  idle  man.  Both  idleness  and  industry  are 
self-propagating.  When  wealth  is  so  concentrated 
in  the  hands  of  an  individual  that  the  many  are 
without  means  to  purchase  what  their  needs  really 
demand,  their  inability  produces  a  similar  inabil- 
ity in  others,  and  thus  poverty  breeds  poverty. 
An  Italian  village,  the  wealth  of  which  is  concen- 
trated in  the  castle  of  a  single  nobleman,  while 
the  peasants  live  on  the  coarsest  foods,  in  the 
poorest  hovels,  wear  the  plainest  clothes,  and  their 
children  go  barefoot,  will  give  employment  to  a 
minimum  of  farmers,  carpenters,  tailors,  and  shoe- 
makers. A  New  England  village,  in  which  there 
are  no  millionaires  and  no  paupers,  in  which  every 
family  is  well  housed,  well  clad,  uses  the  best 
flour,  and  eats  meat  twice  a  day,  gives  employment 
to  a  maximum  of  farmers,  butchers,  millers,  car- 
penters, tailors,  and  shoemakers.  Thus  no  indus- 
trial system  can  be  advantageous  to  any  which 
leaves  any  without  the  possibility  of  employment, 
as  no  industrial  system  can  be  ethically  right 
which  has  the  effect  of  forbidding  any  from  obey- 
ing the  divine  command  and  earning  their  bread 
by  the  sweat  of  their  brow. 

As  it  is  the  glory  of  the  United  States  that 
wealth  has  never  been  so  widely  distributed  as  it 
is  in  the  United  States  to-day,  and  employment 
has  never  been  so  much  in  demand  in  all  the 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


119 


various  vocations  of  life,  so  it  is  the  peril  of  the 
United  States  that  wealth  is  still  too  much  concen- 
trated in  the  hands  of  the  few,  and  still  there  are, 
even  in  prosperous  times,  some,  and  in  unprosper- 
ous  times  great  numbers,  who  in  vain  seek  an  op- 
portunity to  earn  their  livelihood  by  their  indus- 
try. For  we  must  recognize  the  fact  that,  while 
wealth  has  never  before  been  so  widely  distributed 
as  it  is  to-day  in  the  United  States,  while  the  con- 
centration of  wealth  attracts  so  much  attention, 
largely  because  it  is  the  exception  in  a  community 
whose  prosperity  is  more  equally  shared  than  ever 
before  in  the  world's  history,  this  concentration 
exists,  and  in  forms  which  are  perilous  to  Ameri- 
can institutions.  De  Tocqueville  warned  us  more 
than  half  a  century  ago  that  the  greatest  peril  to 
America  would  arise  from  plutocracy,  and  events 
are  proving  his  warning  true.  If  it  is  true  that 
nearly  one  half  of  the  families  of  the  United  States 
own  the  real  estate  they  occupy,  it  is  also  true  that 
seven  eighths  of  the  families  own  but  one  eighth 
of  the  wealth  of  the  nation;  if  it  is  true  that  the 
families  which  own  five  hundred  to  five  thousand 
dollars  equal  in  number  those  who  own  less  than 
five  hundred,  —  that  is,  those  who  have  been  able 
to  save  a  little,  those  who  barely  live  upon  their 
income,  saving  nothing,  and  those  who  are  depend- 
ent upon  the  charity  of  their  neighbors,  —  it  is 
also  true  that  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  families 
own  as  much  wealth  as  all  the  other  families  in 
the  United  States  put  together.    A  single  strik- 


120 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


ing  but  not  unparalleled  fact  may  serve  as  a  con- 
crete illustration  of  the  extent  to  which,  and  the 
methods  by  which,  the  process  of  wealth-concen- 
tration is  carried  on  in  the  United  States  in  our 
time.  The  senior  Cornelius  Vanderbilt  began  life 
as  a  deck-hand.  It  is  currently  reported  that  at 
his  death  he  left  one  hundred  and  eighty  million 
dollars  to  be  divided  among  his  heirs.  If  the  pop- 
ular chronology  is  correct,  and  Adam  was  created 
six  thousand  years  ago,  and  had  lived  until  our 
time,  and  had  worked  industriously  throughout 
that  six  thousand  years,  three  hundred  working 
days  in  each  year,  and  had  earned  one  hundred 
dollars  a  day  more  than  his  livelihood,  which  is 
more  than  most  industrious  men  are  able  to  earn, 
he  would  have  acquired  exactly  the  fortune  that 
Cornelius  Vanderbilt  acquired  in  a  lifetime. 
Should  we,  then,  put  fetters  on  industry?  limit 
the  amount  a  man  may  earn?  prohibit  his  making 
all  that  he  can?  No.  Let  him  by  his  industry 
produce  the  utmost  which  his  industry  can  pro- 
duce. Let  law  stimulate,  promote,  encourage  his 
industry.  But  a  hundred  and  eighty  millions  are 
not  made  in  a  lifetime  by  productive  toil.  They 
are  largely  taken  out  of  the  common  wealth.  No 
one  objects  —  no  one,  at  least,  ought  to  object  — 
to  an  industrial  system  merely  because  it  allows  a 
man,  by  his  skill,  by  his  knowledge,  by  his  indus- 
try, to  produce  all  the  wealth  he  can,  and  to  own 
it  when  he  has  produced  it ;  but  the  industrial  re- 
former does  object  to  an  industrial  system  which 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


121 


permits  a  man,  by  his  shrewdness,  his  skill,  his 
ingenuity,  perhaps  his  political  unscrupulousness, 
to  get  all  of  the  common  wealth  he  can  into  his 
hands. 

Four  evils  grow  out  of  this  concentration  of 
that  which  is  by  nature  common  wealth  in  the 
hands  of  a  comparatively  few. 

First  are  the  material  evils.  Where  industry 
is  fairly  compensated,  every  man,  by  his  industry, 
supports  not  only  himself  but  his  neighbor.  Eid- 
ing  through  any  one  of  our  commercial  streets,  we 
wonder  who  it  is  that  buys  all  these  goods  in  all 
these  shops.  The  man  in  one  shop  buys  from  the 
other  shops.  Each  man  purchases  of  his  neigh- 
bor; they  support  one  another.  The  children  of 
the  schoolmaster  must  be  shod;  they  support  a 
shoemaker.  The  children  of  the  shoemaker  must 
have  clothes;  they  support  a  tailor.  The  tailor 
must  have  woolens;  he  supports  a  factory.  The 
factory  hands  must  have  their  children  taught; 
they  in  turn  support  the  teacher.  Every  one  of 
us  is  thus  engaged  in  supporting  some  one  else, 
and  every  one  of  us  is  in  turn  supported  by  some 
one  else.  We  hear  much  glorification  of  independ- 
ence, but  there  is  no  such  thing  as  independence. 
The  more  complicated  society  and  the  more  ad- 
vanced civilization,  the  less  the  independence. 

Let  any  one  of  these  interdependent  industries 
stop,  and  all  are  injured.  If  the  factory  stops, 
the  children  no  longer  go  to  school,  the  schoolmas- 
ter can  no  longer  buy  shoes,  the  shoemaker  can  no 


122 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


longer  buy  clothes,  the  tailor  can  no  longer  buy- 
woolens.  Whatever  distributes  wealth  energizes 
industry;  whatever  concentrates  wealth  paralyzes 
industry.  Sometimes  we  read  in  the  newspapers 
that  hard  times  are  due  to  over-supply.  Too  many 
houses,  therefore  men  are  shelterless;  too  much 
coal,  therefore  they  are  shivering ;  too  much  bread, 
therefore  they  are  hungry;  too  many  clothes, 
therefore  they  go  naked !  It  does  not  take  much 
thought  to  see  the  folly  of  such  political  economy. 
What  causes  hard  times  is  not  over- supply,  but 
under-demand.  If  every  man  was  able  to  meet 
the  demands  of  himseK,  his  wife,  and  his  children, 
no  factory  would  ever  close  its  doors.  If  all  the 
women  in  America  were  able  to  buy  all  the  silk 
dresses  they  want,  no  silk-factory  would  ever  stop 
its  work. 

In  the  second  place,  this  concentration  of  wealth 
tends  to  great  political  perils.  As  a  result  of  this 
concentration  of  the  common  wealth  in  a  few 
hands,  one  smaU  body  of  men  control  the  coal-oil 
—  that  is,  the  light;  another  small  body  of  men 
control  the  anthracite  coal  —  that  is,  the  fuel; 
another  smaU  body  of  men  control  the  gold  and 
silver  mines  —  that  is,  the  basis  of  currency  of 
the  country;  another  small  body  of  men  control 
the  transportation,  on  which  the  whole  country 
depends  for  its  life;  and  another  small  body  of 
men,  through  the  stock  exchanges,  are  continually 
trying,  with  more  or  less  success,  to  control  the 
food  supplies.    A  community  in  which  a  small 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


123 


body  of  men  control  the  light,  the  fuel,  the  trans- 
portation, the  mone}^  and  the  food  supplies,  is 
perilously  near  a  political  oligarchy.  And  out  of 
this  grows  that  political  corruption  which  is  the 
worst  foe  and  the  greatest  peril  to  the  United 
States. 

A  third  evil  grows  out  of  this  concentration  of 
wealth:  under  it,  and  owing  to  it,  society  is  di- 
vided into  two  classes,  the  tool-owners  and  the 
tool-users.  A  comparatively  small  body  of  men 
own  the  raw  material  and  the  tools  with  which  it 
can  be  transformed  into  useful  products ;  a  large 
body  of  men  use  those  tools  in  making  the  raw 
material  into  useful  products.  The  tool-owners 
we  call  capitalists;  the  tool-users  we  call  laborers. 
"I  can  myself  remember  when,  in  the  remoter 
parts  of  New  England,  there  were  still  the  spin- 
ning-wheel and  the  hand-loom  in  the  farmer's 
house;  when  the  sheep  were  sheared  and  the  wool 
was  sent  to  the  carding-mill,  and  then  brought 
back  and  woven  and  spun  into  garments.  Now 
the  spinning-wheel  is  banished  from  the  family, 
the  hand-loom  is  gone,  and  the  spinning-wheel  and 
the  loom  are  under  the  roof  of  the  great  factories, 
operated  by  a  thousand  men,  who  own  no  share 
whatever  in  the  machinery  which  they  are  using. 
In  my  boyhood,  going  home  from  school,  I  sat  on 
the  box  of  the  stage  with  the  driver,  who  owned, 
at  least  in  part,  the  stage  and  four-horse  team; 
and  it  was  my  ambition  as  a  boy  to  be  some  time 
a  stage-driver  myself  and  own  four  splendid  horses. 


124 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Now  the  locomotive  engineer  stands  in  the  cab, 
and  carries  many  more  passengers,  a  great  deal 
more  comfortably,  and  at  a  far  greater  rate  of 
speed;  but  he  does  not  own  the  locomotive.  The 
locomotive  and  the  railroad  track  are  owned  by 
one  set  of  men,  and  operated  by  quite  another. 
Practically,  all  the  tools  and  implements  of  indus- 
try, except  in  agriculture,  are  owned  by  one  class, 
while  they  are  employed  in  productive  labor  by 
another  class."  ^ 

The  result  of  this  division  of  society  into  two 
classes  —  the  few  that  own  the  tools  and  the  many 
that  use  them  only  as  they  get  the  consent  of  the 
tool-owners,  that  is,  into  capitalists  and  working- 
men,  —  is  to  make  a  rift  in  what  would  otherwise 
be  a  homogeneous  democratic  society,  and  to  bring 
about,  as  between  these  two  classes,  a  chronic  state 
of  warfare  which  does  not  merely  injure  the  classes 
but  imperils  the  whole  community.  The  tool-own- 
ers in  Pennsylvania  —  that  is,  the  men  into  whose 
hands  we  have  allowed  the  coal-mines  to  fall  — 
and  the  workingmen  in  Pennsylvania  —  that  is, 
those  who  are  laboring  in  the  mines  —  become 
involved  in  a  controversy,  and  the  rest  of  the  com- 
munity wait,  wondering  how  high  the  price  of  the 
coal  will  go  and  whether  the  factories  will  have  to 
close  for  lack  of  power  and  the  poor  will  suffer 
cold  for  lack  of  fuel  because  of  this  labor  war  in 
the  anthracite  coal  district.  Such  labor  wars  are 
an  almost  inevitable  incident  of  this  rift  of  society 

^  Quoted  from  my  Christianity  and  Social  Problems,  p.  161. 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


125 


between  tool-owners  and  tool-users;  for  more  and 
more  the  tool-users  are  inclined  to  combine  to  pro- 
tect their  rights  against  aggression,  and  then  to 
use  that  combination  for  purposes  of  aggression 
if  they  think  they  can  do  so  successfully;  and 
the  tool-owners  to  combine  to  protect  themselves 
against  aggression  and  then  to  use  that  combina- 
tion for  purposes  of  aggression  if  they  think  they 
can  do  so  successfully.  For  neither  capitalists  nor 
laborers  are  yet  wholly  sanctified ! 

A  fourth  evil  resulting  from  this  concentration 
of  wealth  and  consequent  division  of  society  into 
two  classes,  a  few  very  rich  and  the  many  depend- 
ent upon  them,  is  seen  in  the  vices  which  such 
a  social  organization  tends  to  produce;  the  vices 
respectively  of  what  Mr.  Gladstone  has  called  the 
"idle  rich"  and  the  "idle  poor."  It  is  true  that 
the  great  millionaires  are  not  idle ;  they  are  gen- 
erally the  busiest  of  men.  But  their  sons  are  not 
the  busiest  of  men.  Given  an  idle  rich  class,  with 
plenty  of  money  and  none  of  that  self-control 
which  is  learned  in  the  school  of  industry,  and 
there  inevitably  result  the  three  great  vices  of 
America,  —  gambling,  drinking,  and  licentious- 
ness. On  the  other  hand,  given  a  great  dependent 
class  and  a  time  of  hardship  when  some  of  them 
can  no  longer  get  the  right  to  use  tools  and  earn 
their  bread,  and  they  become  literally  dependent 
upon  charity  and  begin  to  listen  to  the  man  who 
says,  "The  world  owes  you  a  living;"  and  when 
a  man  has  begun  to  think  that  the  world  owes  him 


126 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


a  living  he  has  taken  the  first  step  toward  getting 
his  living  by  foul  means  if  he  cannot  get  it  by 
fair.  So  out  of  the  great  working  class  the  poor 
are  recruited,  and  out  of  the  poor  the  paupers, 
and  out  of  the  paupers  the  tramps,  and  out  of  the 
tramps  the  thieves,  and  out  of  the  thieves  the  rob- 
bers. 

Thus  the  concentration  of  wealth  tends,  first  to 
material,  second  to  political,  third  to  industrial, 
and  fourth  to  moral  evil.  The  real  and  radical 
remedy  is  nothing  less  than  a  better  distribution 
of  wealth,  —  not  by  invalidating  the  right  of  every 
workingman,  whether  he  works  with  his  brain  or 
his  hand,  to  the  product  of  his  toil,  but  by  a  better 
division  of  that  great  common  wealth,  the  title  to 
which,  in  so  far  as  it  is  held  by  individuals,  de- 
pends on  the  artificial  arrangements  of  society. 
Society,  which  made  originally  the  arrangements 
by  which  this  common  wealth  tends  to  drift  into 
the  hands  of  a  few,  has  a  right  to  make  new  ar- 
rangements by  which  this  common  wealth  will 
tend  to  be  divided  among  the  many.  Nor  will  this 
process  of  division  reach  its  consummation  until 
the  distinction  between  tool-owners  and  tool-users 
is  obliterated,  and  the  tool-users  become  the  tool- 
owners  ;  in  other  words,  until  the  laborers  become 
capitalists;  until,  at  least,  the  present  relationship 
is  so  far  reversed  that  the  tool- user  hires  or  owns 
the  tool  in  lieu  of  the  tool-owner  hiring  or,  as  in 
the  slave  system,  owning  the  tool-user,  —  until 
labor  ceases  to  be  a  commodity  to  be  hired,  and 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


127 


becomes  itseK  the  hirer  of  capital ;  in  other  words, 
until,  in  lieu  of  money  employing  men,  men  em- 
ploy money. 

This  is  the  revolution  toward  which  society  is 
steadily,  though  for  the  most  part  unconsciously, 
moving.  This  is  the  true  meaning  of  socialism 
and  communism,  which,  by,  I  believe,  mistaken 
methods,  seek  to  secure  the  world  for  the  all  and 
put  it  under  the  control  of  the  all;  which  interpret 
the  divine  declaration,  "Behold,  I  have  given  you 
every  herb  bearing  seed  which  is  upon  the  face  of 
the  earth,  and  every  tree  in  the  which  is  the  fruit 
of  a  tree  yielding  seed;  to  you  it  shall  be  for 
meat,"  as  addressed  to  the  whole  human  race,  not 
to  a  privileged  class  who,  possessing  the  earth,  are 
afterward  to  parcel  it  out  to  their  less  fortunate  or 
less  competent  fellows.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the 
so-called  socialistic  legislation,  which  is  an  attempt 
by  the  community,  though  not  always  wisely  di- 
rected, to  take  control,  if  not  possession,  for  the 
community  of  those  industries  on  which  the  life 
of  the  community  depends.  This  is  the  meaning 
of  the  labor  unions  and  the  strikes,  which  often 
seem,  and  sometimes  are,  causeless,  but  which  are 
generally  blind  endeavors  to  get,  not  merely  a 
larger  share  of  the  common  product  of  labor  and 
capital  working  in  cooperation,  but  also  a  larger 
share  in  the  control  of  the  industry  by  which  that 
common  product  is  created. 

By  Democracy  of  Industry,  then,  I  mean  that 
state  of  society  in  which  the  right  and  duty  of 


128 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


every  man  to  earn  an  honest  livelihood  by  his  in- 
dustry will  be  universally  recognized,  and  in  which 
the  raw  material  and  the  native  forces,  by  which 
alone  in  our  time  such  a  livelihood  can  be  secured, 
will  be  recognized  as  belonging  not  to  the  few,  but 
to  the  many.  Thus,  and  only  thus,  will  indus- 
try be  truly  democratic.  Such  a  result  can  be 
accomplished  either  by  revolution  or  evolution. 
Our  present  industrial  system  throughout  the  civil- 
ized world  is  based  upon  the  private  ownership 
of  the  common  wealth.  The  common  ownership 
of  the  common  wealth,  wherever  it  has  been  at- 
tempted, has  failed  to  furnish  any  adequate  re- 
ward to  enterprise,  and  so  any  adequate  incentive 
to  industry.  Communism  in  all  its  forms  assumes 
in  man  a  virtue  which  he  does  not  possess,  and 
fails  to  furnish  that  stimulus  which  is  essential, 
not  only  to  the  production  of  the  greatest  wealth, 
but  to  the  development  of  the  best  character.  If 
the  present  industrial  system  were  overturned  by 
a  revolution,  and  the  people  were  to  become  own- 
ers in  common  of  the  common  wealth,  the  result 
would  be  a  derangement  of  the  industrial  organi- 
zation which  would  bring  immeasurable  suffering, 
accompanied  with  gross  injustice,  upon  all  classes 
of  the  community.  It  would  be  a  revolution  like 
that  of  France  in  1789,  probably  accompanied 
with  distress  more  widespread,  though  possibly 
ameliorated  by  the  humanitarian  spirit  which  did 
not  exist  in  France  a  century  ago.  Such  a  revo- 
lution might  possibly  be  endured  if  great  benefits 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


129 


were  to  follow,  but,  so  far  as  it  is  possible  to  fore- 
see, great  benefits  would  not  follow.  For  the 
common  ownership  of  the  common  land,  if  ef- 
fected, would  probably  produce  in  civilized  com- 
munities the  same  sort  of  effect  which  it  has  pro- 
duced in  India,  in  Russia,  and  among  the  North 
American  Indians.  What  society  needs  is  not 
a  revolution  which  will  destroy  private  property 
in  the  common  wealth,  but  an  evolution  which 
will  accomplish  changes  as  great  by  processes  more 
gradual,  and  will  leave  operative  on  character  and 
society  all  the  incentives  which  private  ownership 
affords,  and  yet  will  preserve  for  all  the  people 
their  right  to  an  equable  share  in  the  benefits  of 
that  wealth  which  is  not  produced  by  personal  in- 
dustry. The  method  proposed  for  this  purpose, 
a  method  which  makes  very  slow  progress,  and  in 
spite  of  years  of  agitation  is  as  yet  understood 
only  by  the  few,  is  that  miscalled  the  Single  Tax. 

At  present  the  expenses  of  governments  are 
chiefly  met  by  three  forms  of  taxation :  a  tariff 
tax  on  imports,  a  tax  on  incomes,  and  a  tax  on 
property,  real  and  personal. 

The  tariff  on  imports  is  an  unjust  tax  because 
it  is  levied,  not  upon  property  nor  on  income,  but 
upon  expenditure.  The  rich  man  calls  on  govern- 
ment for  much  greater  protection  than  the  poor 
man.  If  he  is  a  landlord,  he  has  a  hundred  houses 
to  be  protected;  the  poor  man  has  but  one;  if 
he  is  a  stockholder  in  a  great  railroad,  he  has  a 
highway  thousands  of  miles  long  to  be  protected, 


130 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


while  tlie  poor  man  has  nothing  but  the  pathway 
from  his  front  door  to  his  gate.  The  rich  man 
ought  therefore  to  pay  a  very  much  larger  tax  than 
the  poor  man.  It  ought  to  be  proportioned  to  the 
value  of  his  property,  because  the  value  of  his 
property  determines,  roughly  speaking,  the  amount 
of  protection  which  he  needs.  He  who  has  fifty 
millions  of  dollars  invested  in  mines,  railroads, 
oil-wells,  ought  to  pay  nearly  ten  thousand  times 
as  much  taxes  as  the  householder  who  has  a  home 
in  the  viUage  or  a  farm  in  the  country  worth  five 
thousand  dollars.  But  if  the  tax  is  levied  upon 
imports,  he  who  has  fifty  million  dollars  to  protect 
does  not  pay  ten  thousand  times  more  taxes  than 
he  who  has  five  thousand  dollars  in  a  homestead 
to  be  protected.  The  millionaire  wears  somewhat 
more  expensive  clothing,  lives  in  a  somewhat  more 
expensive  house,  has  somewhat  more  expensive 
furniture,  eats  somewhat  more  expensive  food; 
but  it  is  perfectly  evident  that  he  cannot,  if  he 
tries,  expend  on  himself  and  his  family  ten  thou- 
sand times  as  much  as  his  humbler  neighbor. 
Taxes,  therefore,  levied  on  expenditure  are  always 
and  necessarily  unjust. 

The  second  tax  is  one  on  incomes.  The  income 
can  generally  be  ascertained  only  by  the  statement 
of  the  man  who  has  the  income;  an  income  tax, 
therefore,  tempts  every  man  to  make  false  a  state- 
ment of  his  income  in  order  to  reduce  his  tax.  A 
tax  system  which  involves  wholesale  temptation 
is  not  a  system  to  be  commended  if  any  better  one 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


131 


can  be  devised.  But  this  is  not  all.  Men  who  live 
upon  salaries  can  state  their  income  accurately; 
men  who  live  upon  profits  derived  from  business 
cannot  state  their  income  accurately.  It  often 
happens  that  a  business  man  cannot  tell  in  any 
given  year  whether  he  has  made  any  profit.  He 
never  can  tell  accurately  how  much  profit  he  has 
made,  for  he  must  always  make  allowance  for  the 
rise  in  value  of  some  t'hings  he  has  purchased  and 
the  fall  in  value  of  others,  and  this  estimate  of 
stock  in  hand  is  rarely  more  than  a  shrewd  guess. 
An  income  tax,  therefore,  falls  proportionately 
more  heavily  on  the  man  whose  income  is  in  sala- 
ries or  wages  than  on  the  man  whose  income  is  in 
profits.  That  is,  it  falls  more  heavily  on  the  de- 
pendent, if  not  on  the  poorer,  classes.  But  that 
is  not  all.  Income,  again,  may  be  derived  from 
industry,  or  it  may  be  derived  from  investment. 
The  investment  is  property  which  the  government 
must  protect,  and  the  protection  of  this  property 
requires  governmental  expenditure,  while  the  pro- 
tection of  the  individual  requires  but  little  govern- 
mental expenditure,  and  practically  no  more  for 
the  man  who  is  earning  a  hundred  dollars  a  day 
than  for  the  man  who  is  earning  one  dollar  a  day. 
An  income  tax,  therefore,  is,  in  the  third  place, 
inequable  because  it  is  not  proportioned  to  the  ex- 
penditure demanded  of  the  government  by  the 
persons  taxed.  A  tax  on  income  derived  from 
industry  is  a  tax  on  industry  itself,  which  should 
be  the  last  to  be  taxed. 


132  THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 

The  third  source  of  government  revenue  is  a  tax 
upon  property,  real  and  personal.  If  the  value  of 
all  projDerty,  real  and  personal,  could  be  justly 
estimated,  and  the  tax  could  be  levied  on  the  pro- 
perty thus  estimated  in  the  proportion  of  its  actual 
value,  the  result  would  be  a  just  and  reasonable 
tax;  but  in  effect  this  is  impossible.  For  govern- 
ment is  dependent  upon  the  citizen's  own  state- 
ment for  its  knowledge  of  the  citizen's  personal 
property.  It  is  largely  dependent  on  his  state- 
ment for  its  estimate  of  the  value  of  that  property. 
The  citizen  is  thus  brought  under  temptation  both 
to  conceal  the  possession  of  personal  property  and 
underestimate  its  value,  and  in  point  of  fact  this 
temptation  is  so  considerable  that  personal  pro- 
perty largely  escapes  taxation.  This  escape  of 
personal  property  from  taxation  is  so  common,  and 
the  frauds  and  falsehoods  into  which  men  are  led 
by  the  desire  to  secure  the  same  exemption  which 
their  neighbors  secure  is  so  great,  that  the  aboli- 
tion of  all  tax  on  personal  property  has  been  very 
earnestly  urged  by  moral  reformers  and  by  finan- 
cial reformers  in  the  interest  both  of  simplicity 
and  of  justice.  Yet  it  seems  difficult,  if  not  im- 
possible, to  defend  on  abstract  principles  a  system 
of  taxation  which  levies  all  the  expenses  of  gov- 
ernment on  real  estate,  for  no  other  reason  than 
that  real  estate  cannot  be  hidden  away  from  the 
assessor's  inspection.  Why  should  the  man  who 
has  put  his  industry  into  a  house  pay  a  tax,  while 
the  man  who  has  put  his  industry  into  horses,  car- 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


133 


riages,  dresses,  or  bank  stock,  —  that  is,  money 
loaned  to  others,  — not  pay  a  tax?  The  one  de- 
rives benefit  from  the  government  no  less  than 
the  other.  Justice  would  seem  to  require  that  he 
should  pay  as  well  as  the  other. 

The  so-called  Single  Tax  proposes  to  rid  gov- 
ernment of  all  these  perplexities  by  assuming  as 
true  what  in  the  previous  article  I  have  tried  to 
show  is  true,  that  land  and  its  contents  are  not 
proper  subjects  of  private  ownership;  that  the 
land  which  in  the  Hebrew  commonwealth  belonged 
to  God,  and  in  the  feudal  system  belonged  to  the 
king,  in  a  republic  belongs  to  aU  the  people.  It 
proposes  to  make  them  the  landlord,  and  it  asserts 
that  if  as  landlord  they  receive  a  rental  which 
fairly  represents  the  value  of  the  land  and  its 
contents,  no  one  will  need  to  pay  any  taxes;  that 
if,  in  other  words,  the  people  come  by  their  own, 
they  have  income  enough  for  all  the  expenses  of 
government,  and  probably  some  to  spare. 

Thus,  properly  speaking,  the  Single  Tax  is  not 
a  tax  at  all.  It  is  an  exemption  from  all  taxation 
by  means  of  a  resumption  of  the  common  wealth 
by  its  owners,  the  common  people.  What  would 
be  called  a  tax  would  really  be  a  rental,  and  this 
rental  would  be  based,  not  on  the  idea  that  the 
man  who  pays  it  pays  for  the  protection  which 
government  affords  his  property ;  it  would  be  based 
on  the  idea  that  the  man  who  pays  it  pays  to  the 
owner  of  the  land  a  rental  for  the  land  of  which 
he  is  the  tenant.   This  rental  would  be  paid  in  the 


134 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


form  of  a  tax  wliich  would  be  levied  not  on  real 
estate,  but  on  the  land  and  its  contents.  All  that 
human  industry  had  done  to  improve  the  land 
would  belong  to  the  owner,  —  he  would  pay  no  tax 
on  it;  all  the  value  inherent  in  the  land  as  God 
has  made  it,  and  all  the  value  added  to  the  land 
by  what  the  public  has  done  for  it,  would  belong 
to  the  public,  and  this  value  the  public  would 
receive  in  rental  or  taxation. 

Thus  let  the  reader  imagine  two  plots  of  ground, 
each  one  hundred  acres  in  extent,  side  by  side  in 
a  rural  district  where  wild  land  sells  for  five  dol- 
lars an  acre.  One  of  them  is  wild.  No  tree  is 
felled,  no  plow  has  ever  turned  the  virgin  soil, 
no  fence  has  been  erected.  Everything  is  as  na- 
ture made  it.  The  other  is  a  cultivated  farm, 
with  house,  barns,  outhouses,  orchard,  cultivated 
meadow-land.  The  uncultivated  land  is  worth  in 
the  market  five  hundred  dollars;  the  cultivated 
farm  would  be  worth  five  thousand  dollars.  But 
for  purposes  of  taxation  each  would  be  estimated 
as  worth  five  hundred  dollars,  and  on  that  five 
hundred  dollars  the  tax  or  rent  would  be  esti- 
mated, and  for  the  simple  reason  that  the  man 
who  had  built  the  house  and  the  barn  and  the  out- 
houses, and  planted  the  orchard,  and  constructed 
the  fences,  would  not  pay  any  tax  on  this  wealth, 
which  is  the  product  of  his  industry.  Of  this  the 
people  are  not  the  owners;  he  is  the  owner.  Or, 
again,  let  the  reader  imagine  two  lots  side  by  side 
in  the  centre  of  a  great  city,  where  a  lot  one  hun- 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


135 


dred  feet  by  fifty  is  worth  a  thousand  dollars. 
One  stands  vacant;  on  the  other  a  ten  thousand 
dollar  building  has  been  erected.  On  each  lot 
the  same  tax  would  be  paid,  or,  to  speak  more 
accurately,  for  each  lot  the  same  rent  would  be 
collected;  the  owner  of  the  building  would  pay  no 
rent  for  that  building,  because  it  is  the  product 
of  his  industry;  he  would  pay  rent  only  for  the 
land,  which  is  not  the 'product  of  his  industry,  the 
value  of  which  has  been  created  partly  by  God 
who  made  it,  partly  by  the  entire  community  who 
live  in  its  vicinity,  and  who,  therefore,  should  re- 
ceive the  benefit  of  the  value  which  their  presence 
and  activity  have  conferred  upon  it. 

In  a  similar  manner  the  owner  of  a  mine  — 
whether  coal,  gold,  copper,  or  iron  —  would  pay 
in  rent  the  value  of  the  mine  as  fairly  estimated 
before  ever  a  pick  had  been  put  into  the  hillside. 
All  the  product  of  the  industry  which  had  opened 
up  the  mine  and  made  its  treasure  available  would 
belong  to  him.  All  the  value  of  the  mine  as  raw 
material,  and  all  the  increased  value  of  that  mine 
due  to  the  opening  of  railroads,  the  increase  of 
population,  the  development  of  civilization,  would 
belong  to  the  state,  not  to  the  owner,  because  it 
would  be  the  gift  of  God  enhanced  by  the  product 
of  the  general  activity  of  the  community.  The 
value  thus  added  by  the  general  social  conditions 
which  surround  land  is  the  "unearned  increment" 
of  which  the  reader  so  often  hears  in  the  discus- 
sion of  this  subject. 


136 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


But,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is  not  only  land  and  its 
contents  that  belong  to  the  public.  Forces  of  na- 
ture belong  to  the  public  also.  The  right  of  the 
public  to  these  forces  is  now  recognized  by  our 
patent  laws,  which  give  to  the  patentee  a  right  to 
his  special  use  of  them  only  for  a  limited  term. 
It  is  quite  conceivable  that  these  patent  laws 
should  be  so  modified  as  to  enable  government, 
and  perhaps  any  individual,  to  take  advantage  of 
the  patented  device  on  paying,  not  whatever  the 
patentee  may  choose  to  ask  for  his  device,  but 
what  a  disinterested  tribunal  may  think  that  it  is 
worth.  Not  only  the  forces  of  nature,  but  also  the 
great  franchises  created  by  the  state,  belong  to 
the  state.  The  exclusive  right  to  run  a  car-track 
through  the  street  of  a  great  city,  the  exclusive 
right  of  a  railroad  corporation  to  run  a  railroad 
from  New  York  to  Buffalo,  belongs  primarily  to 
the  people,  in  the  one  case  of  the  city,  in  the  other 
case  of  the  state.  That  it  belongs  to  them  is  evi- 
dent from  the  fact  that  the  track  cannot  be  laid 
down  in  the  street  of  the  city,  nor  the  railroad  built 
from  New  York  to  Buffalo,  without  special  author- 
ity from  the  people.  The  work  which  the  car 
company  or  the  railroad  corporation  does  is  to  be 
paid  for.  The  fruit  of  their  industry  belongs  to 
them.  But  the  highway  of  which  they  make  use 
in  their  industry  belongs  to  the  people  of  the  city 
or  the  state,  and  the  franchise  tax  paid  by  the 
railroad  corporation  should  be  so  adjusted  that 
the  industry  of  muscle  and  of  brain  which  has  pro- 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


137 


duced  and  carried  on  the  railroad  shall  receive  its 
just  compensation,  which  should  be  paid  to  those 
who  have  constructed  and  are  managing  the  rail- 
road ;  and  the  rental  of  the  highway,  whether  in  the 
municipality  or  across  the  state,  should  be  paid  to 
the  people  to  whom  that  highway  really  belongs. 

This  rental  may  be  charged  either  in  the  form 
of  a  tax  or  in  the  form  of  a  rental.  Hitherto 
franchises,  that  is,  the  exclusive  right  to  use  a 
public  highway,  have  been  given  to  private  own- 
ers, personal  or  corporate.  Sometimes,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  Pacific  Railroad,  not  only  the  highway 
has  been  given,  but  a  bonus  has  been  added  in 
order  to  induce  the  private  owner  to  take  the  high- 
way as  a  gift.  This  was  always  folly.  The  folly 
has  been  now  so  demonstrated  that  to  continue  to 
give  away  these  highways  is  scarcely  less  than 
criminal.  A  single  case  will  serve  to  illustrate  the 
value  to  a  city  which  takes  possession  of  its  highway 
and  rents  it  instead  of  giving  it  to  a  corporation. 

The  Boston  subway  has  been  let  to  the  corpora- 
tion which  operates  the  trolley-cars  of  that  city 
for  4|  per  cent,  annually  on  the  cost.  This  4J 
per  cent,  meets  all  interest  on  municipal  bonds, 
and  leaves  a  surplus  sufficient  to  repay  the  entire 
principal  invested  in  less  than  forty  years.  The 
corporation  which  has  hired  the  subway  has  leased 
its  lines  to  another  corporation  which  guarantees 
seven  per  cent,  on  its  common  stock  and  eight 
per  cent,  on  its  preferred  stock.  That  is,  in  the 
city  of  Boston,  the  corporation  which  operates  the 


138 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


trolley-car  system  makes  a  profit  such  as  enables 
it  to  give  satisfactory  dividends  to  its  stockhold- 
ers and  pay  the  whole  cost  of  the  subway,  princi- 
pal and  interest,  in  less  than  forty  years.  The 
city  of  New  York,  learning  a  lesson  from  this 
and  other  analogous  experiments,  has  now  in  a 
similar  manner  undertaken  to  build  its  own  sub- 
way. It  will  build  this  on  money  borrowed  upon 
its  bonds.  It  has  already  leased  this  subway  to 
a  corporation  on  such  terms  that  at  the  end  of  the 
fifty  years  the  bonds,  principal  and  interest,  will 
have  been  paid.  In  other  words,  the  subway  will 
belong  to  the  municipality,  though  it  will  not  have 
expended  a  dollar  of  the  people's  taxes  in  its  con- 
struction. It  is  clear  that  the  same  principle 
might  be  applied  to  surface  roads  in  town  and 
country,  long  or  short,  operated  by  steam  or  oper- 
ated by  electricity.  Whether  this  rent  shaU  be 
paid  for  the  highway  by  the  railroad  corporation 
in  the  form  of  a  rent  or  in  the  form  of  a  tax  is 
immaterial.  The  essential  fact  to  be  noted  is  that, 
if  the  people  keep  possession  of  the  highways  which 
belong  to  them,  the  rentals  therefrom  wiU  go  far 
toward  paying  the  expenses  of  the  government. 

It  does  not  come  within  the  province  of  this 
article  to  go  into  detailed  argument  with  figures 
in  support  of  any  particular  scheme.  My  object 
is  to  give  the  general  reader  as  clear  and  coherent 
an  account  as  I  can,  in  a  limited  space,  of  the 
method  which  modern  thinkers  have  wrought  out, 
by  which  the  common  people  can  secure  joint 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


139 


benefit  of  the  common  wealth,  without  revolution. 
He  who  desires  to  study  the  philosophy  of  this 
plan  more  fully  will  find  material  for  his  study  in 
Henry  George's  "Progress  and  Poverty."  He 
who  desires  to  estimate  scientifically  its  economic 
effect  will  find  material  for  his  study  in  Thomas 
G.  Shearman's  "Natural  Taxation."  He  will  in 
the  latter  book  find  reasons  given  for  the  belief 
that  a  fair  rental  to  the  people  as  landlord  for  the 
value  of  wild  land  and  its  contents,  and  of  public 
franchises  created  by  and  belonging  to  the  people, 
would  be  adequate  to  pay  all  the  expenses  of  gov- 
ernment, municipal,  State,  and  Federal. ^  He  will 
also  find  there  given  the  reasons  for  believing  that 
such  a  rental,  instead  of  increasing  the  burdens 
of  the  agricultural  class,  would  decrease  them;^ 
and,  finally,  the  reasons  for  believing  that  such 
a  rental  could  be  collected  with  almost  absolute 
equity,  since  there  would  be  no  possibility  of  con- 
cealing the  land  or  the  franchise  for  which  the 
rent  would  be  paid,  and  not  much  difficulty  in 
estimating  their  natural  market  value.  This  last, 
the  moral  argument  for  the  Single  Tax,  will,  to 
him  who  regards  ethical  considerations  as  more 
important  than  economic,  appear  of  the  first  im- 

^  "  Thus  all  national  and  local  taxes,  if  collected  exclusively 
from  ground  rents,  would  absorb  only  44|  per  cent,  of  those  rents, 
leaving  to  the  owners  of  bare  land  a  clear  annual  rent  of  §763,- 
252,000,  besides  the  absolutely  untaxed  income  from  all  buildings 
and  improvements  upon  their  land."    Natural  Taxation,  p.  147. 

2  "  Thus  the  farmers  would  save  much  more  than  one  third  of 
their  present  tax  burdens  by  the  concentration  of  taxes  on  ground 
rents  alone."    Natural  Taxation,  p.  196. 


140 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


portance.  It  is  thus  stated  in  a  recent  letter  by 
Mr.  Charles  Francis  Adams :  — 

On  this  moral  side,  which  to  my  mind  is  the  most 
important  side  of  all,  there  can,  so  far  as  I  see,  be  but 
one  way  of  looking  at  the  thing.  The  Single  Tax  would 
be  an  enormous  improvement  over  the  existing  system, 
or  over  any  other  system  which  I  think  could  be  devised. 
It  would  reduce  taxation  to  a  basis  of  absolute  certainty 
and  fairness,  rendering  evasion  impossible.  A  complete 
stop  would  thus  be  put  to  the  whole  system  of  cheating, 
and  consequent  unjust  transfer  of  a  burden  from  those 
who  have  no  conscience  to  those  who  have  a  conscience 
—  from  those  who  can  escape  the  law  to  those  who  can- 
not escape  the  law  —  which  is  the  unanswerable  argu- 
ment against  the  continuance  of  the  present  system  —  a 
system  which  puts  a  confessed,  because  quite  undeniable, 
premium  on  perjury  ;  and  no  system  which  puts  a  pre- 
mium on  perjury  admits  of  justification.  This  argument 
alone,  to  my  mind,  would  be  conclusive  in  favor  of  the 
Single  Tax.  Any  possible  amount  of  wrong  or  injury 
it  might  incidentally  inflict  would  to  my  mind  be  Uttle 
more  than  dust  in  the  balance  compared  with  the  advan- 
tage which  would  result,  after  the  thing  fairly  adjusted 
itself,  from  the  complete  freedom  it  would  bring  about 
from  aU  temptation  to  evasion  and  false  swearing. 
From  the  moral  point  of  view,  consequently,  there  do 
not  seem  to  be  any  two  sides  to  the  question  ;  and  the 
moral  point  of  view  is,  in  my  judgment,  the  all-impor- 
tant point  of  view. 

The  question  may  be  and  has  been  asked,  would 
not  the  carrying  out  of  this  plan  amount  to  a  con- 
fiscation of  landed  values?    Henry  George  con- 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


141 


cedes  that  it  would,  and  defends  such  confiscation 
on  the  ground  that  land  is  not  a  proper  subject  of 
ownership.  He  compares  the  loss  to  the  land- 
owner involved  in  the  Single  Tax  with  the  loss  to 
the  slaveholder  involved  in  emancipation.  The 
cases  do  not  seem  to  me  parallel.  Society  has  no 
right  to  organize  a  system  involving  ownership  of 
man ;  society  has  a  right  to  organize  a  system  in- 
volving ownership  in  land.  If  the  community 
thinks  the  private  ownership  and  control  of  land 
is  best  for  the  community,  it  has  a  right  to  provide 
for  such  private  ownership  and  control ;  but  it  has 
no  right  to  provide  for  the  private  ownership  and 
control  of  one  man  by  another,  against  the  protest 
of  that  other,  though  he  be  but  a  minority  of  one. 
Society  having  provided  for  the  private  ownership 
and  control  of  land,  and  individuals  having  in- 
vested their  earnings  in  that  land  on  the  faith  of 
that  provision  of  society,  society  has  no  right  by 
revolutionary  act  to  confiscate  the  property  and 
destroy  for  the  individual  owner  the  economic  val- 
ues which  it  has  itself  created.  If,  therefore,  it 
were  proposed  suddenly  to  abolish  all  taxes  on 
imports,  on  incomes,  on  personal  and  real  pro- 
perty, and  levy  them  all  on  land  and  its  contents 
and  on  franchises,  the  proposition  would  involve 
an  industrial  revolution  which  would  be  at  once 
inexpedient  and  unjust.  But  no  such  sudden 
change  is  possible.  If  taxation  is  taken  off  from 
all  other  objects,  and  levied  only  on  those  things 
which  are  properly  a  common  wealth,  the  change 


142 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


can  be  wrought  out  gradually,  and  there  will  be 
time  for  industry  to  adjust  itself  to  the  new  con- 
ditions as  they  are  created.  There  is  very  little 
reason  to  believe  that  the  practical  injustice  to  in- 
dividuals which  would  grow  out  of  the  adoption  of 
the  Single  Tax  theory,  in  any  way  which  would 
be  possible  in  America,  would  be  so  great  as  the 
injury  which  has  come  to  individuals  through  the 
use  of  steam  and  electricity,  through  the  influence 
of  machinery,  through  the  organization  of  labor 
and  of  capital,  and  through  the  consequent  neces- 
sary changes  in  industrial  conditions  and  in  values 
depending  on  those  conditions. 

This  and  all  other  changes  in  economic  condi- 
tions are,  however,  in  the  last  analysis,  dependent 
upon  changes  to  be  wrought  in  personal  character. 
Industrial  democracy  is  dependent  upon  educa- 
tional democracy.  There  is  no  possible  way  by 
which  the  people  can  obtain  the  benefits  of  the 
common  wealth  except  as  they  are  intelligent  and 
thrifty.  They  must  understand  the  forces  of  na- 
ture in  order  to  get  the  fruit  which  nature  is  ready 
to  drop  into  their  lap.  'They  must  have,  in  other 
words,  industrial  intelligence,  and  they  must  have 
thrift,  —  that  is,  the  moral  capacity  to  spend  less 
than  they  earn,  and  not  before  they  have  earned 
it.  In  a  nomadic  state  man  catches  a  fish  or 
shoots  a  deer  in  the  morning,  cooks  it  and  eats  it 
at  night.  He  lives  literally  from  hand  to  mouth. 
In  the  agricultural  period  this  is  no  longer  possi- 
ble.   He  plants  corn  in  the  spring,  harvests  it  in 


INDUSTRIAL  RIGHTS 


143 


the  fall,  and  cannot  plant  again  until  the  next 
spring.  He  therefore  must  wait  for  one  year  from 
the  time  of  his  planting  until  he  is  able  to  plant 
again,  or  from  the  time  of  his  reaping  until  he  is 
able  to  reap  again.  In  this  one  year  he  will 
starve  if  he  has  not  capital;  that  is,  if  he,  or  some 
one  before  him,  has  not  laid  by,  out  of  previous 
industry,  enough  for  food  supply  until  the  new 
harvest  is  ready.  In  the  agricultural  state  the 
world  may  be  said  to  pay  its  wages  once  a  year; 
and  as  agriculture  is  the  basis  of  all  industry, 
speaking  broadly,  it  may  be  said  that  no  man  has 
caught  up  with  the  world  unless  he  has  laid  by  as 
much  as  is  equivalent  to  one  year  of  his  expendi- 
tures. If  he  has  not  done  this,  he  is  not  living  on 
his  real  income,  but  is  borrowing  from  the  future. 
But  all  investment  beyond  a  year's  income  is  pro- 
perly investment  for  power,  not  for  pleasure.  The 
aphorism.  Money  is  power,  expresses  a  very  sub- 
stantial truth.  It  is  power  because  it  is  hoarded 
or  solidified  industry,  the  industry  of  past  years, 
hoarded  as  sunlight  is  hoarded  in  the  coal,  to  be 
set  free  for  future  activities.  Until  these  two 
simple  capacities  have  been  acquired  —  the  capa- 
city to  understand  and  use  nature,  and  the  capa- 
city to  reservoir,  in  capital,  industry  for  future 
necessity  —  no  economic  changes  will  or  can  per- 
manently secure  economic  equality  or  any  approxi- 
mation to  it.  Thus  the  considerations  presented 
in  this  paper  lead  to  the  subject  of  the  next  lec- 
ture, which  will  be  the  Educational  Rights  of  Man. 


LECTURE  V 


EDUCATIONAL  EIGHTS 

The  child  lies  in  his  cradle,  the  feeblest  of  all 
creatures.  He  knows  not  how  to  use  his  eyes,  nor 
his  ears,  nor  his  hand,  nor  his  feet.  He  knows 
not  how  to  use  the  germs  within  him,  of  imagina- 
tion, of  reason,  of  conscience.  He  knows  nothing. 
At  the  other  extreme  is  the  great  poet,  the  great 
statesman,  the  great  scientist,  the  great  captain  of 
industry:  Tennyson,  Gladstone,  Huxley,  Vander- 
bilt.  The  difference  between  this  creature  in  the 
cradle,  and  this  man  who  reaches  out  into  all  the 
universe  and  counts  nothing  too  large  for  his  in- 
vestigation, is  made  by  education.  The  funda- 
mental principle  of  education  is  this:  that  every 
being  whom  God  ever  made  has  a  right  to  become 
all  that  it  is  possible  that  he  should  become ;  and 
therefore  a  right  to  whatever  may  be  necessary 
to  enable  him  to  fulfill  the  divine  ideal.  Man's 
right  to  education  will  not  be  fulfilled  in  society 
until  this  is  accomplished.  Let  us  trace  histori- 
cally how  the  progress  of  education  has  been  lead- 
ing toward  this  consummation. 

In  imperial  Rome  there  were  no  schools;  no 
education  but  of  the  tongue  for  rhetoric  and  of 
the  fist  for  gladiatorial  combat.    But  at  this  very 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS 


145 


time  in  connection  with  every  synagogue  in  Pales- 
tine, was  a  parish  school.  The  curriculum  was 
certainly  very  imperfect,  the  teachers  were  but  illy 
trained;  but  underlying  Hebraism  was  this  funda- 
mental principle,  that  the  children  of  the  common 
people  are  to  have  an  education,  though  what  edu- 
cation means  the  world  was  yet  to  learn.  Into 
Europe  passed,  with  Christianity,  the  synagogue 
schools  developed  into  parochial  schools.  Out  of 
these  parochial  schools  grew  in  time,  on  the  one 
hand  the  great  universities,  on  the  other  hand  the 
primary  schools  for  the  common  people.  The 
monks  and  nuns  were  the  teachers ;  the  convents 
and  monasteries  had  their  libraries;  the  church 
directed,  controlled,  administered  education.  To 
know  how  to  write  was  almost  demonstration  that 
he  who  knew  had  been  under  the  tuition  of  the 
church.  But  the  teaching  was  limited  in  its  scope 
as  in  its  purpose.  The  church  which  was  doing 
this  teaching  assumed  to  know  the  truth  and  to 
know  it  infallibly;  its  object  was  to  give  so  much 
of  its  infallible  knowledge  as  it  thought  advanta- 
geous for  the  common  people  to  possess.  The 
teacher  was  a  giver,  the  pupil  was  a  recipient;  it 
was  the  duty  of  the  pupil  to  receive  without  ques- 
tioning what  the  church  imparted  with  authority. 
Obedience,  acceptance,  reception,  —  this  was  the 
duty  of  the  pupil  in  the  mediaeval  school.  The 
object  of  the  school  was  to  prepare  men  for  heaven 
and  for  death,  and  in  order  that  they  might  be 
prepared  for  heaven,  and  as  a  means  to  that  end, 


146 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


to  prepare  priests  who  should  prepare  men  for 
heaven  and  for  death  as  the  entrance  to  heaven. 

The  Renaissance  came  and  with  the  Renaissance 
a  protest  against  the  narrowness  of  conception 
which  regards  religious  topics  as  the  only  proper 
themes  for  popular  education.  Ancient  literature 
in  all  its  forms  was  brought  back  into  the  life  of  the 
people,  in  spite  of  the  protests  of  some  ecclesias- 
tics, with  the  enthusiastic  suppbrt  of  others.  Thus 
both  the  curriculum  and  the  conception  of  educa- 
tion were  changed;  for  although  the  Renaissance 
in  form  only  demanded  that  the  literature  of  the 
ancient  classical  authors  should  be  studied,  there 
was  really  involved  in  that  a  demand  that  every- 
thing of  vital  interest  to  humanity  should  be  stud- 
ied. The  classicists  opened  one  door  for  the  in- 
troduction of  secular  knowledge,  but  when  they 
opened  that  door  all  secular  knowledge  came  troop- 
ing in.  Thus  the  Renaissance  changed  the  scope 
of  education,  though  the  method  of  education  re- 
mained unchanged.  The  pupils  continued  to  be 
recipients  and  the  teachers  givers. 

Luther  introduced  a  new  conception,  not  only 
of  religion  but  of  education.  Luther  maintained 
the  right  of  private  judgment  and  he  was  therefore 
compelled  to  maintain  the  necessity  of  educating 
the  private  judgment.  Thus  while  the  Renaissance 
chano^ed  the  curriculum  of  education  the  Reforma- 
tion  changed  its  nature.  Education  became  no 
longer  an  information,  given  to  receptive  pupils 
by  teachers  who  assumed  to   possess  infallible 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS 


147 


knowledge;  it  became  a  training  in  intellectual 
power  of  men  and  women,  who  were  to  exercise 
that  power  for  themselves.  Thus  Luther  laid  the 
foundations  of  that  great  school  system  which  was 
to  grow  up  in  Germany,  to  which  our  indebted- 
ness is  perhaps  larger  than  we  think.  Education 
is  partly  acquiring,  at  second  hand,  information 
as  to  facts  which  men  before  us  have  ascertained. 
We  cannot  all  go  round  the  world;  so  we  accept 
as  true  the  reports  of  what  other  men  have  seen 
who  have  traveled  around  the  world.  We  can- 
not all  use  the  telescope  to  study  the  heavens,  so 
we  take  the  information  which  has  been  obtained 
by  those  who  have  used  their  telescope  to  study 
the  heavens.  Up  to  the  time  of  Luther  it  may 
almost  be  said  that  this  acquisition  of  information 
was  the  only  object  of  education;  but  since  Lu- 
ther's time  education  has  been  something  more 
than  this :  it  has  been  not  only  the  acquisition  of 
information,  it  has  been  even  more  the  develop- 
ment of  capacity  to  deal  with  the  facts  thus  ascer- 
tained; it  has  come  to  be  the  acquisition  of  power 
even  more  than  the  acquisition  of  information. 

Some  earnest  temperance  reformers  have  been, 
within  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years,  introducing 
into  our  public  schools  what  are  known  as  "ap- 
proved temperance  text-books."  These  approved 
text-books  are  in  form  books  of  physiology,  in 
fact  books  for  the  advocacy  of  a  certain  doctrine 
respecting  alcohol.  In  so  far  as  they  are  books 
for  information,  in  so  far  as  their  aim  is  to  tell 


148 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  boys  and  girls  in  school  what  are  the  qualities 
of  their  bodies  and  what  is  the  nature  of  food,  and 
how  that  food  operates  on  the  body,  they  are  quite 
legitimate;  in  so  fat*  as  the  object  of  these  text- 
books is  to  inspire  the  child  with  certain  emotions 
respecting  alcohol  or  to  impart  to  the  child  certain 
formulated  principles  respecting  the  use  of  alcohol, 
the  temperance  text-book  is  a  return  to  mediaeval- 
ism.  It  is  an  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  school  to 
teach  dogmatically,  and  it  is  not  the  function  of 
the  school  to  teach  dogmatically  either  in  the  realm 
of  ethics  or  in  the  realm  of  religion.  The  func- 
tion of  the  school  is,  first,  to  give  information  as 
to  well-ascertained  facts,  and,  second,  to  equip  the 
boy  or  girl  with  power  to  decide  for  himself  what 
are  the  principles  which  those  facts  indicate. 

In  imperial  Rome  education  was  first  for  the 
few;  by  primitive  and  mediaeval  Christianity  it 
was  enlarged  in  its  scope  so  as  to  provide  for  the 
many;  by  the  Renaissance  it  was  broadened  in 
its  themes  so  as  to  include  a  larger  field  of  know- 
ledge than  ecclesiasticism  had  ever  included;  by 
the  Reformation  it  was  changed  in  its  object  and 
methods  so  that  it  should  create  power  as  well  as 
confer  information.  Under  Comenius,  Pestalozzi, 
Froebel,  Rousseau,  the  educational  system  took 
one  further  step  forward.  Not  agreed  in  all, 
they  were  agreed  in  this,  that  the  function  of  edu- 
cation is  not  to  add  something  to  man  from  with- 
out, but  to  develop  man  from  within;  in  other 
words,  that  education  is  development.  Education 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS 


149 


proceeds,  they  said,  in  accordance  with  nature. 
It  is  not  an  addition  to  nature,  still  less  is  it  some- 
thing antagonistic  to  nature.  The  child  grows  as 
the  plant  grows,  and  it  is  the  function  of  educa- 
tion to  help  the  child  to  grow,  to  feed  the  root, 
to  furnish  sunlight,  to  train  the  plant  upward 
toward  light  and  away  from  groveling  on  the 
earth,  to  be  sometimes  a  stake  that  the  plant  may 
be  supported  until  it  has  strength  to  stand  by  it- 
self ;  —  but  the  teacher  is  always  to  work  with 
nature,  always  to  study  the  nature  of  the  child, 
always  to  learn  what  are  his  aspirations  and  coop- 
erate with  them,  always  to  recognize  that  educa- 
tion is  not  a  pouring  in  from  without,  but  a  devel- 
oping from  within. 

Thus  the  history  of  eighteen  centuries  brings  us 
back  to  the  truth  that  education  is  nothing  else 
than  development.  It  is  the  whole  process  by 
which  the  child  who  is  but  a  seed,  may  be  devel- 
oped into  the  tree,  the  child  who  is  but  a  germ, 
may  be  developed  into  the  man,  the  child  who  is 
but  a  beginning,  may  be  carried  on  towards  com- 
pletion. This,  and  nothing  less  than  this,  is  edu- 
cation. It  is  the  training  of  the  whole  man  — 
of  his  hand,  of  his  eye,  of  his  feet,  of  his  reason, 
of  his  judgment,  of  his  taste,  of  his  conscience,  of 
his  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  powers,  —  in  a 
word,  of  the  man. 

Says  Professor  Huxley :  — 

Education  is  the  instruction  of  the  intellect  in  the 
laws  of  nature ;  under  which  name  I  include  not  merely 


150 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


things  and  their  forces  but  men  and  their  ways,  and  the 
fashioning  of  the  affections  and  of  the  will  into  an  ear- 
nest and  loving  desire  to  move  in  harmony  with  those 
laws./  For  me  education  means  neither  more  nor  less 
than  this.  Anything  which  professes  to  call  itself  edu- 
cation must  be  tried  by  this  standard,  and  if  it  fails  to 
stand  the  test  I  will  not  call  it  education,  whatever  may 
be  the  force  of  authority  or  of  numbers  upon  the  other 
side.^ 

This  seems  to  me  an  admirable  definition  of 
education.  It  is  the  right  of  every  man  to  have 
this  education  —  this  instruction  of  his  intellect 
and  this  training  of  his  affections  and  his  will,  in 
short,  this  development  of  his  personality :  not  the 
superimposition  upon  him  of  another  will,  another 
intellect,  another  personality ;  not  a  reconstruction 
into  a  different  will,  a  different  intellect,  a  differ- 
ent personality:  but  the  development  of  his  own 
true,  ideal,  divine  personality. 

Let  me  restate  these  principles  as  they  have 
been  historically  interpreted.  Education  is  for 
all  men.  This  education  is  to  be  in  all  subjects. 
As  the  whole  material  world  is  given  to  man  to 
control,  so  the  whole  intellectual  world  is  given  to 
man  to  enter.  There  is  no  field  so  set  apart,  so 
sacred,  that  a  man  may  not  enter  upon  it.  It 
may  not  be  said  by  an  hierarchical  class,  this  be- 
longs to  the  ministers  of  religion,  the  common 
people  must  not  investigate  here;  it  may  not  be 
said  by  a  scientific  class,  this  belongs  to  science, 

1  Huxley's  Essays,  "  Science  and  Education,"  p.  83. 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS  151 


laymen  must  not  enter  here;  it  may  not  be  said 
by  a  philosophic  class,  this  belongs  in  a  realm  so 
high  that  no  man  may  enter  here.  There  is  no 
place  for  either  dogmatism  or  agnosticism.  There 
is  nothing  which  man  may  not  inquire  into;  no 
problem  which  he  may  not  investigate ;  no  affirma- 
tion which  he  may  not  question.  But  it  is  not 
enough  that  man  enters  all  fields  and  examines  all 
subjects,  he  must  have  capacity  to  exercise  judg- 
ment and  will,  he  must  be  a  man  in  the  possession 
of  power,  not  a  mere  vessel  in  the  possession  of 
information.  And,  finally,  the  whole  process  of 
education  from  the  cradle  to  manhood  is  a  process 
of  growth,  in  which  nature  is  not  to  be  set  aside, 
but  in  which  the  teacher  is  to  cooperate  with 
nature. 

By  whom  is  this  education  to  be  furnished? 
The  answer  of  modern  democracy  is  that  certain 
important  phases  of  it  are  to  be  furnished  by  the 
state.  What  phases?  What  has  the  state  to  do 
with  education  ? 

The  public  school  is  not  a  charity  school;  it  is 
not  a  school  for  the  children  of  the  poor;  it  is  not 
a  kind  of  intellectual  "soup-house." 

The  public  school  is  not  a  socialistic  venture. 
The  state  has  not  assumed  functions  which  belong 
to  individuals  in  furnishing  public  education. 
We  do  not  provide  our  public  schools  because  it 
is  cheaper  to  maintain  schoolmasters  than  it  is  to 
maintain  policemen  —  though  it  is  cheaper.  It 
has  been  proved  by  statistics  that  it  costs  a  great 


152  THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


deal  more  to  kill  an  Indian  in  war  than  it  does  to 
educate  an  Indian  in  school.  It  is  good  economy, 
therefore,  to  provide  schools  rather  than  to  provide 
soldiers.  But  that  is  not  the  ground  on  which 
the  public  school  stands. 

The  state,  in  establishing  and  maintaining  a 
public  school  system,  is  not  usurping  the  place  of 
the  church.  It  is  not  primarily  the  function  of 
the  church  to  educate  and  secondarily  the  function 
of  the  state.  The  state  has  not  interfered  with  or 
taken  up  the  work  that  naturally  belongs  to  the 
church.  The  aim  and  the  method  of  the  church 
are  different  from  that  of  the  state.  The  church, 
as  we  have  seen,  is,  and  always  has  been,  in  its 
teaching  dogmatic.  Its  object  is  to  impart  truth 
to  the  student;  but  the  object  of  the  public  school 
is  not  to  impart  truth  to  the  student:  its  object  is 
to  impart  power  to  the  student  to  find  truth  for 
himself.  And  this  makes  the  radical  difference 
between  the  ecclesiastical  and  the  non-ecclesiastical 
system  of  education.  The  question  at  issue  be- 
tween the  public  school  and  the  parochial  school, 
whether  that  parochial  school  is  Roman  Catholic 
or  Protestant,  is  not  shall  education  be  Eoman 
Catholic  or  Protestant,  shall  it  be  denominational 
or  undenominational,  shall  it  be  supported  by  the 
pence  of  the  few  or  by  the  taxes  of  the  many;  it 
is  not  shall  it  be  controlled  by  the  state  by  popu- 
lar vote  or  controlled  through  the  church  by  its 
bishops  —  the  fundamental  question  in  education 
between  the  two  systems,  parochial  and  public,  is 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS 


153 


this :  Is  it  our  aim,  ourselves  knowing  the  truth, 
to  impart  this  truth  to  pupils?  Or,  being  our- 
selves ambitious  to  know  the  truth,  is  it  our  aim 
to  give  to  those  who  are  in  the  schools  power  to 
determine  for  themselves  what  is  the  truth? 

Finally  the  state  in  assuming  an  educational 
function  does  not  stand  in  loco  parentis.  It  is 
not  a  kind  of  father  to  the  children.  It  does  not 
establish  public  schools  as  it  establishes  orphanages 
for  children  who  have  no  parents.  It  does  not 
step  in  to  take  the  place  of  a  poverty  stricken 
parent. 

In  assuming  the  direction  of  education,  the  state 
acts  from  a  very  different  motive  than  any  of  those 
thus  suggested.  The  free  school  rests  on  the  fun- 
damental postulate  that  education  is  a  condition 
precedent  to  self-government.  The  statement  that 
men  have  a  right  to  govern  themselves  does  not 
mean  that  all  men  possess,  without  education,  the 
capacity  for  self-government;  it  means  that  all 
men,  with  a  few  abnormal  exceptions,  possess  the 
capacity  for  education,  and,  being  educated,  they 
possess  the  power,  first  to  govern  themselves,  and 
then  to  take  share  in  governing  their  fellow  citi- 
zens. If  we  had  recognized  the  fact  that  educa- 
tion precedes  government,  that  the  individual  must 
know  how  to  govern  himself  before  he  knows  how 
to  govern  his  fellow  citizens,  we  should  not  have 
to  confront  in  the  South  the  political  problem 
which  we  have  to  confront  to-day.  The  public 
school  system  stands  on  the  broad  ground  that 


154 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


wherever  democracy  undertakes  tlie  problem  of 
self-government  it  must,  as  a  necessary  condition 
precedent,  undertake  the  problem  of  universal  edu- 
cation. Therefore  it  is  that,  historically,  wher- 
ever democracy  has  gone  education  has  gone.  So 
soon  as  the  United  States  begins  its  democratic 
life  it  begins  the  creation  of  a  school  system.  So 
soon  as  slavery  is  overthrown  at  the  South  and 
the  South  truly  becomes  democratic,  the  whole 
Southern  people,  with  a  heroism  and  self-sacrifice 
which  deserve  a  great  deal  more  praise  than  they 
have  ever  received  from  the  North,  undertakes  in 
its  poverty,  the  problem  of  universal  education. 
France  becomes  a  republic :  at  once  it  establishes 
a  state  school  system.  So  long  as  England  is  a 
feudal  power,  it  leaves  the  schools  in  the  hands  of 
the  church;  when  feudalism  is  abolished,  the 
Board  schools  are  established,  under  the  control 
of  the  state.  Democracy  and  the  public  school 
always  go  together  —  necessarily  go  together ;  one 
cannot  exist  without  the  other.  To  attempt  to 
build  a  democracy  without  a  public  school  is  to 
build  on  a  morass.  It  was  the  instinct  of  the 
American  people,  as  well  as  the  wisdom  of  a  great 
teacher,  that  led  Harvard  College  to  invite  fifteen 
hundred  Cuban  teachers  to  go  to  Harvard  Univer- 
sity last  summer,  in  order  that  they  might  learn 
what  an  American  system  of  education  is  and 
carry  back  that  learning  to  their  own  shore.  If 
Cuba  is  to  become  a  republic,  first  of  all  there 
must  be  a  public  school  system  in  Cuba.  This, 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS  155 


then,  is  the  fundamental  principle:  as  in  mon- 
archies, the  children  of  the  king  are  educated  by 
the  state  because  they  are  to  exercise  the  power  of 
the  state,  so  in  a  democracy  the  children  of  the 
people  are  educated  by  the  state  because  they  are 
to  rule  the  state. 

In  America  we  all  belong  to  the  royal  family; 
therefore  the  state  educates  us  all. 

But  if  it  is  the  function  of  a  free  state  to  edu- 
cate its  citizens  in  order  to  make  them  good  citi- 
zens, worthy  to  be  intrusted  with  the  powers  and 
prerogatives  of  citizenship,  it  is  the  function  of 
the  state  to  give  all  the  education  that  is  necessary 
to  make  a  good  citizen  worthy  to  be  intrusted  with 
such  powers  and  prerogatives. 

What,  then,  are  the  conditions  necessary  to  good 
citizenship?  Evidently  the  tenets  of  our  various 
theological  schools  are  not  necessary  to  good  citi- 
zenship. No  Congregational ist  would  say  that  an 
Episcopalian  cannot  be  a  good  citizen.  No  Roman 
Catholic  would  say  that  a  Protestant  cannot  be  a 
good  citizen.  Very  few  Protestants,  outside  the 
North  of  Ireland,  would  say  that  a  Roman  Catho- 
lic cannot  be  a  good  citizen.  No  Christian  would 
say  that  a  Jew  cannot  be  a  good  citizen.  I  do  not 
say  that  the  differences  between  Romanism  and 
Protestantism ^  between  Judaism  and  Christianity, 
even  between  Congregationalism  and  Episcopalian- 
ism,  are  unimportant;  but  they  do  not  affect  citi- 
zenship. A  man  may  be  a  good  citizen  of  the  Re- 
public, whatever  his  theology;  indeed,  there  are 


156 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


many  very  good  citizens  in  the  Republic  who  have 
not  any  theology  at  all.  What  is  necessary  to 
make  a  good  citizen? 

First,  this  citizen  must  know  the  language  of 
the  people  among  whom  he  lives.  He  must  know 
how  to  communicate  his  ideas  to  them,  and  he 
m^st  know  how  to  understand  their  ideas  when 
they  wish  to  communicate  with  him.  If  the  coun- 
try is  made  up  of  a  great  number  of  various  tribes 
who  cannot  understand  one  another,  it  is  not  pos- 
sible in  the  nature  of  the  case  that  there  should 
be  a  common  government  or  a  common  society, 
except  as  the  government  is  government  by  an  oli- 
garchy or  an  aristocracy  or  a  monarchy.  If  when 
we  landed  on  these  shores  we  had  undertaken  to 
establish  the  federal  government  out  of  the  Indian 
tribes  here  it  would  have  been  absolutely  impossi- 
ble, if  for  no  other  reason  because  the  Indians  did 
not  understand  one  another's  language.  I  had 
a  letter  the  other  day  from  a  personal  friend  who 
was  living  in  the  Philippines,  in  which  he  said 
that  persons  on  one  side  of  the  border-line  of  a 
province  cannot  understand  the  language  of  the 
people  who  are  living  on  the  other  side  of  the 
border-line  of  the  province.  These  tribes  cannot 
comprehend  one  another,  and  if  they  cannot  com- 
prehend one  another,  they  cannot  make  one  na- 
tionality, except  as  they  are  kept  in  one  national- 
ity by  a  superior  power.  It  may  be  Aguinaldo's 
power,  it  may  be  ours,  but  it  must  be  external  to 
the  people  unless  the  people  can  communicate  with 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS 


157 


one  another.  Intercommunication  of  ideas  is  es- 
sential to  nationality.  Therefore  in  this  country 
our  first  duty  is  to  teach  all  our  children  the  Eng- 
lish language,  because  we  are  going  to  be  an 
English-speaking  nation  on  this  continent  one  of 
these  days.  Every  citizen,  therefore,  must  know 
how  to  read  and  write  and  speak  the  English  lan- 
guage. 

In  order  to  be  a  good  citizen  one  must  know 
something  about  the  world  he  lives  in ;  something 
of  his  own  land  and  something  of  other  lands.  It 
is  not  necessary  that  he  should  be  able  to  recite 
by  rote  the  length  of  a  long  list  of  rivers  or  the 
height  of  a  long  list  of  mountains.  He  can  go  to 
the  last  cyclopaedia  to  get  information  on  those 
subjects  if  he  wants  it.  But  it  is  necessary  that 
he  should  know  something  about  the  nature  of  his 
country  and  the  nature  of  other  countries.  If  he 
is  not  measurably  familiar  with  these  facts,  he  is 
in  no  condition  to  take  part  in  the  government  of 
his  own  country  or  in  determining  what  shall  be 
the  relation  of  his  country  to  other  countries.  He 
must  know  about  our  products,  about  our  exports 
and  our  imports,  about  what  we  have  shown  our- 
selves able  in  the  past  to  do ;  he  must  know  some- 
thing about  our  soil  and  the  configuration  of  our 
land,  or  he  cannot  exercise  any  wise  judgment  on 
the  question  what,  for  example,  should  be  our 
tariff  laws.  All  he  can  do  is  to  ask  his  newspaper 
or  his  leader  and  act  accordingly.  And  this  is 
not  democratic;  this  is  something  else  —  I  don't 


158 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


know  what  to  call  it.  Some  knowledge  of  geo- 
graphy is  an  essential  part  in  public  education, 
because  it  is  necessary  to  make  intelligent  citizens 
in  a  great  republic. 

But  the  world  is  not  only  made  up  of  material 
things,  it  is  also  made  of  physical  forces.  The 
citizen  must  know  something  about  the  forces  of 
this  world  in  which  he  lives;  something  about 
light,  heat,  electricity.  He  must  know  something 
about  nature,  for  he  has  to  cooperate  with  nature; 
and  more  and  more  as  civilization  increases  will 
his  cooperation  with  nature  be  necessary  to  his 
well-being.  Therefore  some  knowledge  of  science, 
some  comprehension  of  the  great  laws  and  forces 
of  nature,  are  essential  to  intelligent  citizenship. 

The  world  has  been  trying  experiments  ever 
since  it  was  in  long  clothes,  and  he  who  would  be 
wise  respecting  the  future  must  know  something 
respecting  these  experiments  of  the  past.  Wise 
men  learn  by  the  experiences  of  others,  says  the 
proverb,  fools  learn  only  by  their  own.  If  the 
citizen  is  to  be  a  wise  man,  and  if  he  is  to  have 
a  part  and  a  wise  part  in  the  government  of  the 
nation,  it  is  necessary  that  he  should  know  some- 
thing of  the  experiments  which  have  been  made  in 
the  past  —  that  is,  of  history.  It  is  not  necessary 
that  he  should  be  able  to  give  the  list  of  the 
crowned  heads  of  England.  This  is  not  to  know 
history.  What  is  necessary  is  that  he  should  un- 
derstand what  is  the  rise,  progress,  and  develop- 
ment of  the  human  race;  where  it  has  succeeded 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS 


159 


and  where  it  has  failed;  why  it  has  succeeded  and 
why  it  has  failed.  He  should  know  in  order  that 
he  may  not  repeat  to-day  the  experiments  which 
were  the  failures  of  yesterday.  It  is  necessary 
in  order  that  he  may  not  think  that  the  methods 
which  did  well  in  one  age  and  under  one  circum- 
stance must  necessarily  be  applied  in  another  age 
and  under  other  circumstances.  He  must  know  ^ 
history  because  he  must  know  the  world's  expe- 
rience; otherwise  he  cannot  be  wise  in  shaping 
the  destiny  of  the  nation  for  the  future. 

There  have  been  in  this  world  great  men.  They 
have  had  great  thoughts,  and  have  uttered  these 
great  thoughts.  They  live  in  some  sense  immor- 
tal in  these  great  thoughts.  The  world's  true  his- 
tory is  its  intellectual  history,  and  its  intellectual 
history  has  been  written  by  its  great  leaders.  If 
you  ask  what  Palestine  was,  you  look  to  its  pro- 
phets; if  you  ask  what  Greece  was,  you  look  to 
its  poets  and  its  philosophers;  if  you  ask  what 
Rome  was,  you  look  to  its  great  statesmen  and 
jurists;  if  you  ask  what  Italy  was,  you  think  of 
Dante;  of  England,  you  think  of  Shakespeare;  of 
France,  you  think  of  Rousseau  or  Voltaire  or  Vic- 
tor Hugo.  The  great  men  of  past  ages  have  done 
great  thinking,  and  their  thoughts  live  in  litera- 
ture. The  good  citizen,  he  who  is  to  have  the 
power  to  direct  or  participate  in  directing  the  des- 
tinies of  a  great  nation,  must  know  something  of 
these  great  thoughts  of  these  great  men.  A  book 
is  not  a  dead  thing,  it  is  a  living  man.    A  library 


160 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


is  not  a  mausoleum,  it  is  the  abode  of  the  living. 
We  go  into  our  library  and  ask,  now  Milton,  now 
Shakespeare,  now  Dante,  now  Homer,  now  Plato, 
now  Aristotle,  to  talk  to  us.  All  the  wise  men 
of  the  world  are  on  these  shelves ;  wiser  than  they 
were  when  they  lived,  for  now  they  are  wise  enough 
to  speak  when  you  want  them  to  speak,  and  wise 
"enough  to  keep  silent  when  you  want  them  to  keep 
silent.  The  educated  man,  the  voter,  or  the  wife 
who  will  influence  the  voter,  needs  to  know  the 
great  thoughts  of  the  great  thinkers.  He  needs 
to  know  literature. 

In  all  —  language,  geography,  history,  literature 
—  he  needs  to  have  not  merely  the  symbol  but  its 
vital  meaning.  He  needs  to  know,  not  names  of 
books,  but  the  spirit  in  the  books;  not  the  dates  of 
the  history,  but  the  trend  of  events  in  the  history ; 
not  the  mere  natural  forces,  but  their  expression 
and  their  coordination  and  their  cooperation;  not 
the  names  of  boundaries  and  states,  but  what  vari- 
ous countries,  and  especially  what  his  own  country 
in  its  physical  aspect,  stand  for;  not  mere  alphabet 
and  words,  but  how  to  use  words  so  as  to  express 
the  mind  that  is  in  him,  and  how  to  understand 
words  so  that  he  can  comprehend  the  mind  that 
is  in  another  man.  Thus  the  educated  man  must 
know  language,  geography,  science,  history,  litera- 
ture. And  it  is  the  function  of  the  state  to  teach 
these  things,  because  these  things  are  necessary  to 
make  a  good  citizen  of  a  state. 

Is  there  anything  else?   Certainly.    Almost  the 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS 


161 


first  requisite  of  good  citizenship  is  that  the  citizen 
shall  be  able  to  support  himself.  He  may  have 
large  information,  excellent  ideas,  good  judgment, 
he  may  be  a  good  talker,  he  may  even  be  a  good 
listener,  but  if  he  is  dependent  on  the  charity  of 
the  public,  he  is  not  a  good  citizen.  It  should  be 
the  function,  therefore,  of  the  free  state  to  fur- 
nish such  elements  of  education  as  will  enable  this 
man  to  be  a  self-supporting  citizen  of  the  United 
States.  How  far  industrial  education  will  go  is 
a  question  which  I  do  not  undertake  here  to  dis- 
cuss. I  doubt  whether  as  yet  we  are  ready  to 
answer  the  question;  but  it  should  go  far  enough 
to  make  all  graduates  of  public  school  systems 
able  to  give  to  the  community  in  work  at  least  as 
much  as  they  have  to  take  back  from  the  commu- 
nity in  wages.  Industrial  education,  in  this  broad 
sense  of  the  term,  is  a  function  of  the  state;  not 
because  it  is  the  duty  of  the  state  to  give  to  every 
or  to  any  man  a  training  for  his  profession,  but 
because  it  is  the  function  of  the  state  to  prepare 
men  for  self-support.  One  difficulty  with  our  sys- 
tems of  education  thus  far  seems  to  me  to  be  that 
we  have  paid  too  much  attention  to  the  higher 
education  and  too  little  to  the  broader  education. 
We  need  to  broaden  it  at  the  base  even  if  we  have 
to  trim  it  a  little  at  the  top.  For  when  all  the 
education  of  a  public  school  system  tends  towards 
literary  proficiency,  and  when  the  boy  or  girl 
graduating  from  the  school  can  do  nothing  but 
write  school  compositions,  or  the  most  proficient 


162 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


among  them  articles  for  newspapers,  it  is  evident 
that  the  provision  of  self-support  is  not  adequate. 
Education  should  be  such  as  to  make  intelligent 
workmen;  not  skilled  workmen,  but  intelligent 
workmen ;  and  there  is  a  great  difference  between 
the  two.  The  workman  in  a  factory  may  do  a 
particular  piece  of  work  for  one  or  two  years  and 
may  become  a  very  skilled  mechanic  in  the  doing 
of  that  one  particular  piece  of  work,  and  yet  he 
may  have  no  intelligence  about  his  work  whatever. 
He  may  not  know  what  is  done  before  or  after  him 
in  making  the  finished  product.  If  he  is  taken 
from  that  particular  piece  of  work,  he  may  be  as 
helpless  as  if  he  were  a  child.  There  is  many  a 
skilled  mechanic  who  knows  how  to  do  a  particu- 
lar thing,  if  the  particular  thing  is  one  that  he 
has  done  fifty  times  before,  but  if  there  happens 
to  be  a  new  combination  of  circumstances  demand- 
ing a  variation  in  the  work,  the  intelligent  wife 
has  to  stand  over  him  and  tell  him,  the  skilled 
mechanic,  how  to  do  it.  We  ought  in  our  public 
school  system  to  give  such  an  industrial  education 
as  will  make  intelligent  workingmen.  Then  let 
them  go  out  and  become  skilled  workingmen  by 
practice  in  their  several  departments. 

Is  this  all?  No.  A  man  may  read  and  write 
the  English  language,  he  may  know  geography  and 
science  and  history  and  literature  and  some  form 
of  industry,  and  all  his  knowledge  may  simply 
equip  him  to  be  a  greater  rascal  than  he  could 
otherwise  have  been.    Life  is  not  made  up  of  in- 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS  163 


telligence  ;  into  life  enters  that  which  is  more 
important  than  mere  intelligence,  —  will  and 
conscience,  —  the  ability  to  know  what  is  right 
and  wrong,  the  ability  to  resist  the  wrong  and  to 
do  the  right.  This  is  absolutely  essential  to  good 
citizenship.  To  be  a  good  citizen  the  man  must 
be  trained  morally.  I  do  not  urge  that  he  should 
be  taught  in  school  certain  ethical  dogmas,  any 
more  than  I  urge  that  he  should  be  taught  certain 
theological  dogmas;  but  he  should  be  so  trained 
that  he  can  and  will  use  his  conscience  and  his 
moral  will  in  all  the  varied  exigencies  of  life.  If 
this  is  not  done,  his  skill  in  writing  simply  makes 
him  an  ingenious  forger,  his  knowledge  of  science 
simply  makes  him  a  skillful  dynamiter.  The  better 
educated  he  is,  the  greater  peril  he  may  be  to 
society,  if  moral  training  has  not  accompanied 
intellectual  equipment. 

It  has  been  proposed  to  leave  the  moral  train- 
ing to  the  churches  and  the  families,  and  to  assign 
only  the  intellectual  equipment  to  the  schools.  It 
was  at  one  time  popular  thus  to  divide  education 
into  two  departments,  and  to  assign  all  secular 
education  to  the  state  and  all  religious  education  to 
the  church.  But  there  is  no  such  division  between 
the  secular  and  the  religious ;  it  does  not  exist. 
Religion  is  carrying  the  right  spirit  into  all  life. 
We  cannot  divide  man  into  compartments  and 
direct  one  institution  to  develop  one  compartment 
and  another  institution  to  develop  the  other  com- 
partment, any  more  than  we  can  draw  a  line  of 


164 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


cleavage  in  a  tree,  and  say  we  will  feed  this  side 
of  the  tree  with  one  sort  of  manure  and  that  side 
of  the  tree  with  another  sort  of  manure.  The 
whole  man  must  be  educated,  the  whole  man  must 
be  trained.  It  is  not  enough  to  teach  the  man 
what  are  the  laws  of  nature  and  of  life,  it  is  also 
necessary  to  fashion  the  affections  and  the  will  to 
move  in  harmony  with  those  laws.  And  if  it  is 
the  function  of  the  state  to  furnish  education  in 
order  to  make  men  and  women  good  citizens,  and 
if  in  the  exercise  of  this  function  it  is  the  duty  of 
the  state  to  give  all  that  is  necessary  to  citizen- 
ship, then  it  is  the  duty  of  the  state  to  fashion  the 
affections  and  the  will  in  harmony  with  the  great 
laws  of  society. 

Of  all  the  books  available  for  this  purpose  ftiere 
is  none  so  useful  as  the  English  Bible.  I  do  not 
advocate  the  reading  of  the  Bible  and  the  use  of 
prayer  in  the  public  schools  if  any  one  objects, 
because  the  reading  of  the  Bible  and  the  use  of 
prayer  in  public  schools  is  worship,  and  it  is  not 
the  function  of  the  state  to  conduct  worship,  cer- 
tainly not  to  conduct  compulsory  worship,  whether 
the  worshipers  are  little  children  or  grown  men. 
I  do  advocate  the  study  of  the  Bible  in  the  public 
schools  as  a  means  of  acquainting  our  pupils  with 
the  laws,  the  literature,  and  the  life  of  the  ancient 
Hebrews,  because  .the  genius  of  the  Hebrew  people, 
pervading  their  laws,  their  literature,  and  their 
life,  was  a  spiritual  genius. 

Every  nation  has  its  function  in  the  develop- 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS  1G5 


ment  of  the  human  race.  Every  nation  contrib- 
utes its  quota  to  the  complex  sum  of  human  civil- 
ization. Speaking  broadly,  Greece  may  be  said  to 
have  contributed  philosophy,  Rome  law,  Italy  art, 
Germany  liberty,  England  commerce,  the  United 
States  democracy,  —  which  is  more  than  liberty,  —  ^ 
and  the  Hebrew  people  what  we  call  religion.  I 
do  not  mean  that  there  has  been  no  philosophy  ex- 
cept in  Greece,  no  law  except  in  Rome,  no  art 
except  in  Italy,  no  liberty  except  in  Germany,  no 
commerce  except  in  Great  Britain,  nor  that  there 
has  been  no  religion  except  among  the  Hebrew 
people;  but  more  of  the  great  moral  forces  of  the 
world  may  be  traced  back  to  that  people,  and  to 
the  literature  of  that  people,  than  to  any  other 
historic  or  literary  source.  The  United  States  isy 
more  intimately  connected  with  the  Hebrew  people 
than  with  any  other  ancient  people.  Our  litera- 
ture abounds  with  references  to  the  literature  of 
the  ancient  Hebrews;  they  are  probably  more  fre- 
quent than  the  references  to  the  literature  either 
of  the  Greeks  or  the  Romans.  No  man  can  read 
the  great  English  or  American  poets  or  authors 
understand ingly  unless  he  knows  something  of  his 
English  Bible.  Historically  we  are  more  closely 
connected  with  the  Hebrew  people  than  with  the 
Greeks.  Our  free  institutions  are  all  rooted  in  the 
institutions  of  the  Hebrew  people,  and  have  grown 
out  of  them,  as  the  result  of  the  long  conflict  be- 
tween their  political  principles  and  those  of  pagan 
imperialism.    A  man  is  not  a  truly  educated  man 


166 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


who  knows  nothing  of  the  sources  and  fountains 
of  our  national  life,  and  they  are  preeminently  to 
be  found  in  the  Bible. 

Why  should  he  not  know  them?  Why  should 
they  not  be  taught  in  the  public  schools  ?  Because 
the  Bible  cannot  be  taught  without  teaching  reli- 
gion in  the  public  schools?  No!  No  one  objects 
to  teaching  religion  in  the  public  schools.  No  one 
objects  to  teaching  the  public  school  children  what 
was  the  religion  of  the  ancient  Gre^s  or  the  reli- 
gion of  the  ancient  Eomans.  We  cannot  read 
Homer  nor  Virgil  without  learning  something  of 
the  religion  of  the  Greeks  and  the  Romans.  Why, 
then,  should  we  object  to  teaching  in  the  schools 
what  was  the  religion  of  the  Hebrews?  Is  it  so 
dangerous  a  religion?  "Who  shall  ascend  into 
the  hill  of  the  Lord?  He  that  hath  clean  hands 
and  a  pure  heart"  —  would  that  be  a  perilous 
teaching  for  the  men  who  are  to  become  aldermen 
in  our  great  cities?  "What  doth  the  Lord  require 
of  thee,  but  to  do  justly,  and  to  love  mercy,  and  to 
walk  humbly  with  thy  God?"  —  would  that  be  a 
dangerous  teaching  for  boys  who  are  to  become 
business  men  in  this  commercial  age?  What  is 
the  religion  of  the  Hebrews  ?  This  ancient  people 
believed  that  God  was  the  authority  behind  all.  law, 
that  no  law  was  just  which  did  not  conform  to 
divine  ideals,  and  no  people  free  whose  laws  were 
not  enforced  by  an  enlightened  conscience.  They 
believed  that  God  was  in  history,  and  that  the 
record  of  human  events  was  the  record  of  a  divine 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS 


167 


progress  of  humanity  toward  justice,  liberty,  and 
mercy.  They  believed  that  God  is  in  all  natural 
phenomena;  that  nature  alike  conceals  and  reveals 
him;  that  God  is  in  all  human  experience,  the 
King,  the  Father,  the  Companion,  the  Friend  of 
man.  The  laws  of  this  religion  are  summarized  in 
the  Ten  Commandments,  demanding  in  the  name 
of  Jehovah  protection  for  person,  property,  reputa- 
tion, and  the  family;  it  is  summarized  for  the  his- 
torian by  such  a  statement  as  that  of  the  psalmist, 
"  Thou  leddest  thy  people  like  a  flock  by  the  hand 
of  Moses  and  Aaron  ; "  it  is  summarized  by  the 
poet  of  nature  in  the  affirmation,  "The  heavens 
declare  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament 
showeth  his  handiwork;  "  it  is  summarized  by  the 
poet  of  human  experience  in  the  declaration,  "The 
Lord  is  my  shepherd,  I  shall  not  want."  The./ 
religion  of  the  Hebrews  assumes  that  God  is  a 
righteous  God,  that  he  demands  righteousness  of 
his  children,  that  he  demands  nothing  else,  and 
that  he  will  forgive  their  unrighteousness  if  they 
turn  from  it,  and  help  them  to  righteous  living  if 
they  desire  his  help. 

I  do  not  here  discuss  the  question  whether  this 
religion  is  true  or  false.  It  can  certainly  do  no 
harm  to  teach  our  children  in  the  public  schools 
that  this  religious  faith  was  held  by  an  ancient  peo- 
ple. Surely,  if  we  may  teach  them  that  the  Greeks 
and  Romans  held  these  conceptions  respecting  the 
gods,  and  the  relation  of  men  to  the  gods,  and 
the  duties  of  men  toward  one  another  and  toward 


168 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  gods,  which  Homer  portrays  and  Plato  sati- 
rizes, we  may  teach  them  those  conceptions  respect- 
ing the  character  of  God,  and  the  relation  of  man 
to  God,  and  the  relation  of  man  to  his  fellow  man, 
which  the  Hebrew  prophets  inculcated.  It  cannot 
harm  our  children  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
laws  of  the  Pentateuch,  the  visions  of  the  Psalter, 
the  wisdom  of  the  Proverbs,  the  righteousness  of 
Amos,  the  mercy  of  Hosea,  the  hopefulness  of 
Isaiah.  It  is  not  the  function  of  the  school  to 
teach  that  the  Bible  is  an  authority,  any  more  than 
to  teach  that  the  church  is  an  authority.  But  it 
is  the  function  of  the  school  to  make  its  pupils 
familiar  with  the  sources  of  our  life,  —  national, 
social,  and  individual, — and  no  one  source  has 
contributed  so  much  to  make  the  American  people 
what  it  is,  in  its  political  institutions,  in  its  social 
organism,  and  in  its  fundamental  ethical  principles 
and  spiritual  faiths,  as  has  the  life  and  literature 
of  this  ancient  people. 

Professor  Huxley  is  not  to  be  accused  of  eccle- 
siastical or  theological  prejudice  in  favor  of  ortho- 
doxy, and  Professor  Huxley  has  thus  summarized 
the  argument  in  favor  of  the  use  of  the  Bible  in 
public  schools  supported  and  carried  on  by  the 
state :  — 

I  have  always  been  strongly  in  favor  of  secular  edu- 
cation, in  the  sense  of  education  without  theology ;  but 
I  must  confess  I  have  been  no  less  seriously  perplexed  to 
know  by  what  practical  measures  the  rehgious  feeling, 
which  is  the  essential  basis  of  conduct,  was  to  be  kept  up, 


EDUCATIONAL  RIGHTS  169 


in  the  present  utterly  chaotic  state  of  opinion  on  those 
matters,  without  the  use  of  the  Bible.  The  pagan  moral- 
ists lack  life  and  color,  and  even  the  noble  Stoic  Marcus 
Antoninus  is  too  high  and  refined  for  an  ordinary  child. 
Take  the  Bible  as  a  whole  ;  make  the  severest  deductions 
which  fair  criticism  can  dictate  for  shortcomings  and 
positive  errors ;  eliminate,  as  a  sensible  lay  teacher  would 
do,  if  left  to  himself,  all  that  is  not  desirable  for  children 
to  occupy  themselves  with;  and  there  still  remains 
in  this  old  literature  a  vast  residuum  of  moral  beauty 
and  grandeur.  And  then  consider  the  great  historical 
fact  that  for  three  centuries  this  book  has  been  woven 
into  the  life  of  all  that  is  best  and  noblest  in  English 
history ;  that  it  has  become  the  national  epic  of  Britain, 
and  is  as  familiar  to  noble  and  simple,  from  John-o*- 
Groat's  House  to  Land's  End,  as  Dante  and  Tasso  once 
were  to  the  Italians  ;  that  it  is  written  in  the  noblest  and 
purest  English,  and  abounds  in  exquisite  beauties  of 
mere  literary  form ;  and,  finally,  that  it  forbids  the  veri- 
est hind  who  never  left  his  village  to  be  ignorant  of  the 
existence  of  other  countries  and  other  civilizations,  and 
of  a  great  past,  stretching  back  to  the  furthest  limits  of 
the  oldest  nations  in  the  world.  By  the  study  of  what 
other  book  could  children  be  so  much  humanized  and 
made  to  feel  that  each  figure  in  that  vast  historical  pro- 
cession fills,  like  themselves,  but  a  momentary  space  in 
the  interval  between  two  eternities  ;  and  earns  the  bless- 
ings or  the  curses  of  all  time,  according  to  its  effort  to 
do  good  and  hate  evil,  even  as  they  also  are  earning 
their  payment  for  their  work  ?  ^ 

Education  is  development  of  character;  and  de- 
mocracy requires  that  the  state  shall  furnish  to 
1  Huxley :  Essays,  "  Science  and  Education,"  pp.  387,  388. 


170 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  children  and  to  all  the  children  of  the  state 
development  in  all  those  elements  of  character 
which  are  essential  to  good  citizenship.  If  we  are 
to  be  a  free,  self-governing  people,  we  must  be 
a  people  of  free,  self-governing  individuals.  If 
we  are  to  be  a  people  of  free,  seK-governing  indi- 
viduals, each  individual  in  the  nation  must  be 
educated  to  understand  himself,  the  world  he  lives 
in,  the  men  and  women  with  whom  he  is  to  live, 
and  the  laws  which  govern  both  the  world  of  mat- 
ter and  the  world  of  men ;  and  he  must  not  only 
be  educated  to  know  those  laws,  but  he  must  be 
trained  to  conform  his  life  to  them.  Nothing  less 
than  this  is  the  function  of  the  state  in  education; 
nothing  less  than  this  will  make  a  free,  self-gov- 
erning republic  composed  of  free,  self-governing 
individuals. 


ft 


LECTURE  VI 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 

What  are  the  relations  of  the  state  to  religion  ? 
In  most  countries  until  a  very  recent  period  it  has 
been  believed  that  the  duty  of  the  church  is  to 
protect  its  subjects  from  irreligious  teachers  and 
from  false  religious  teachers.  In  practically  all 
countries  excepting  the  United  States  it  is  still 
the  opinion  that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  state  to  sup- 
port, sustain,  and  sanction  true  religious  teaching; 
and  in  substantially  all  churches,  whether  in  the 
United  States  or  out  of  it,  it  is  believed  to  be 
the  duty  of  the  church,  though  not  necessarily  of 
the  state,  to  prevent  and  to  punish  false  religious 
teaching,  and,  therefore,  to  determine  what  is 
true  religious  teaching,  and  to  determine  it  with 
a  certain  degree  of  authority.  Before  it  is  possi- 
ble for  us  to  understand  the  religious  rights  of 
man,  at  least  as  I  desire  to  present  them  to  you,  it 
is  necessary  to  understand  this  view  which  has 
been  held  up  to  a  very  recent  period  throughout 
the  civilized  world,  and  is  to-day  held  in  a  very 
considerable  proportion  of  the  civilized  world, 
though  in  a  modified  form.  That  doctrine  I  wish 
to  state,  free  from  prejudice  and  in  as  sympathetic 


172 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


a  manner  as  possible ;  for  I  desire  to  get  for  my- 
self, and  to  give  to  my  reader,  the  point  of  view 
of  those  who  believe  in  some  kind  of  organic 
authority  in  religion,  exercised  either  by  church  or 
by  state,  or  by  both  combined. 

The  Hebrew  commonwealth  was  a  theocracy. 
The  king  of  that  commonwealth  was  Jehovah. 
All  power  was  supposed  to  be  derived  from  him, 
all  authority  centred  in  him.  Therefore,  to  at- 
tempt to  turn  the  minds  and  loyalty  of  the  people 
away  from  him  was  treason.  It  is  not  proper  to 
say  that  there  was  a  union  of  church  and  state 
in  the  Hebrew  commonwealth:  they  were  really 
one  organization  exercising  different  functions. 
The  church  was  the  state  conducting  public  wor- 
ship; the  state  was  the  church  administering  law. 
In  all  lands  —  including  our  own  in  theory,  though 
not  in  practice  —  treason  is  a  capital  offense.  The 
attempt  to  destroy  the  loyalty  of  people  to  their 
country  or  to  their  king  has  been  in  all  ages  pun- 
ished with  death,  and  it  was  so  punished  in  the 
Hebrew  commonwealth.  A  single  extract  from 
its  laws  will  suffice :  — 

If  there  arise  among  you  a  prophet,  or  a  dreamer  of 
dreams,  and  giveth  thee  a  sign  or  a  wonder,  and  the  sign 
or  the  wonder  come  to  pass,  whereof  he  spake  unto  thee, 
saying,  Let  us  go  after  other  gods,  which  thou  hast  not 
known,  and  let  us  serve  them ;  thou  shalt  not  hearken 
unto  the  words  of  that  prophet,  or  that  dreamer  of 
dreams :  for  the  Lord  your  God  proveth  you,  to  know 
whether  ye  love  the  Lord  your  God  with  all  your  heart 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 


173 


and  with  all  your  soul.  Ye  shall  walk  after  the  Lord  your 
God,  and  fear  him,  and  keep  liis  commandments,  and 
obey  his  voice,  and  cleave  unto  him.  And  that  prophet,  or 
that  dreamer  of  dreams,  shall  be  put  to  death ;  because  he 
hath  spoken  to  turn  you  away  from  the  Lord  your  God, 
which  brought  you  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  redeemed 
you  out  of  the  house  of  bondage,  to  thrust  thee  out  of  the 
way  which  the  Lord  thy  God  commanded  thee  to  walk  in. 

He  was  to  be  put  to  death,  not  because  he  pro- 
phesied falsely :  the  fact  that  the  event  which  he 
prophesied  came  to  pass  made  no  difference.  He 
was  to  be  put  to  death  because  he  was  guilty  of 
treason,  in  attempting  to  turn  away  the  loyalty  of 
the  people  from  their  king. 

Jesus  Christ  came  preaching  that  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  is  at  hand;  but  he  gave  to  this  phrase, 
kingdom  of  heaven,  a  new  significance.  He  de- 
clared that  the  kingdom  of  God  was  not  to  be  a 
kingdom  like  other  kingdoms.  It  was  not  to 
dominate  other  kingdoms.  It  was  spiritual  in  its 
nature,  and  it  was  to  dominate  the  world  by  per- 
vading the  other  kingdoms.  There  was  no  room, 
therefore,  in  the  kingdom  as  he  proclaimed  it  for 
political  treason,  for  there  was  no  political  organi- 
zation, and  no  political  head  to  which  the  individ- 
ual could  be  traitor.  There  was  a  spiritual  or- 
ganization, which  was  endeavoring  to  implant  new 
principles  and  to  inspire  with  new  life  all  political 
organizations;  the  ultimate  end  of  its  work  could 
not  be  seen  until  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  had 
become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and  of  his 


174 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Christ.  The  kingdoms  of  the  world  would  remain 
world-kingdoms,  but  they  would  be  world-king- 
doms subject  to,  because  pervaded  by,  the  spirit 
of  Christianity.  But  though  this  was  a  spiritual 
kingdom  and  would  proceed  by  spiritual  forces, 
the  same  absolute  loyalty  was  required  by  Christ 
in  the  new  theocracy  that  had  been  required  by 
Jehovah  in  the  old  theocracy.  Christ  was  in- 
finitely patient  in  dealing  with  error  and  with 
faults;  but  whoever  desired  to  join  his  organi- 
zation must  give  to  him  absolute  and  implicit 
obedience.  When  he  called  his  first  disciples, 
he  told  them  that  they  must  forsake  all  in  order 
to  follow  him;  and  they  did.  When  a  rich  young 
man  came  running  to  him,  and  knelt  down  in  the 
way,  asking  what  he  should  do  to  inherit  eternal 
life,  he  said  to  him  in  effect:  You  cannot  come 
into  this  fellowship  unless  you  forsake  everything 
and  come  after  me.  When  he  would  have  washed 
Peter's  feet,  and  Peter  objected,  he  refused  to 
give  any  explanation:  I  shall  either  wash  your 
feet,  he  said,  or  this  is  an  end  of  your  relationship 
to  this  society;  you  have  no  more  part  in  me. 
When  certain  scribes  came  and  said,  We  will  fol- 
low thee,  but  first  let  us  go  and  bury  our  dead, 
he  replied.  No,  there  is  no  "first."  Absolute, 
immediate,  instant,  unconditional  obedience  is 
required;  nothing  less  will  suffice. 

Thus  as  the  old  theocracy  was  centred  around 
Jehovah,  the  new  theocracy  was  centred  around 
Jesus  Christ.    As  the  new  theocracy  went  forth 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 


175 


to  imbue  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  with  its 
spirit,  Christ  was  recognized  as  a  risen  Christ, 
and  the  new  theocracy  was  centred  around  an 
invisible  Master,  as  the  old  theocracy  had  been 
centred  around  an  invisible  King.  This  new  Chris- 
tian theocracy  went  out  into  the  Koman  world, 
which  was  preeminently  a  world  of  order  and 
organization,  into  the  Greek  world,  which  was 
preeminently  a  world  of  philosophy  and  thought. 
It  pervaded  them,  it  did  something  to  transform 
them;  but  they  also  did  something  to  transform 
this  new  theocracy.  In  a  very  little  while  the 
Christian  Church  became  a  great  imperial  hier- 
archy; it  became  organized  in  accordance  with 
the  Roman  spirit;  it  came  to  have  a  philosophy 
of  religion,  which  was  pervaded  by  the  Greek 
spirit.  And  by  the  fifth  or  sixth  century  this  new 
theocracy  had  become  a  hierarchical  organization, 
teaching  a  philosophy  of  religion.  It  required 
the  same  loyalty  that  the  old  Hebrew  common- 
wealth required;  it  required  the  same  loyalty  that 
the  primitive  Christian  Church  required;  but  it 
required  loyalty  to  a  different  object.  It  was  no 
longer  loyalty  to  an  invisible  King;  it  was  loyalty 
to  a  visible  hierarchy  and  a  visible  creed. 

The  nature  of  the  organization  had  been 
changed,  the  nature  of  the  object  to  which  the 
loyalty  was  attached  had  been  changed,  but  the 
loyalty  was  still  required  by  this  third  religious 
organization,  the  mediaeval  church.  This  loyalty 
was  required  to  an  organization  and  to  the  philo- 
sophy which  the  organization  taught. 


176 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


At  first  the  mediaeval  church  contented  itself 
with  employing  no  other  penalty  than  that  which 
the  primitive  church  had  employed  in  apostolic 
times ;  it  simply  said  to  men,  If  you  do  not  accept 
our  creed  and  our  authority,  you  are  outside  our 
church;  we  excommunicate  you.  But  as  the 
church  grew  in  power,  as  it  acquired  control  of 
political  organizations,  and  as  mere  banishment 
from  the  ecclesiastical  organization  did  not  suffice 
to  prevent  independence  of  thought,  the  church 
reestablished  the  old  Hebraic  penalty;  it  said,  If 
you  are  disloyal  to  our  teaching,  if  you  teach  that 
which  is  contrary  to  it,  you  must  suffer  death. 
And  it  quoted  from  the  Old  Testament  and  from 
the  New  Testament  in  support  of  its  doctrine  that 
disloyalty  to  the  principles  of  the  order  required 
death.  It  quoted  such  passages  as  I  have  just 
referred  to;  it  quoted  such  a  parable  as  that  in 
which  Christ  said,  "Go  out  and  compel  them  to 
come  in,"  or  that  in  which  he  said,  "The  branch 
that  beareth  no  fruit  shall  be  cut  down  and  cast 
into  the  fire." 

The  cruelties  of  the  ecclesiastical  penalties  of 
the  Middle  Ages  were  not  peculiarly  ecclesiastical ; 
it  is  a  mistake  to  charge  them  to  the  church;  they 
belong  to  the  epoch.  The  age  was  one  which  be- 
lieved in  the  deterrent  power  of  penalty.  It  be- 
lieved that  the  greater  the  penalty,  the  greater  the 
deterrent  power ;  the  more  horrible  and  the  more 
manifest  the  suffering,  the  more  likely  that  the 
offense  would  not  be  repeated.    An  age  in  which 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 


177 


violations  of  person  and  property  were  punished 
by  burning  at  the  stake,  by  flaying  alive,  by  boil- 
ing in  oil,  by  tearing  men  asunder  by  wild  horses, 
naturally  punished  heresy  in  similar  fashion.  And 
yet,  in  theory,  the  church  never  inflicted  penalties. 
The  church  assumed  the  authority  to  determine 
what  was  true,  and  whether  any  particular  teacher 
was  teaching  in  accordance  with  the  truth.  That 
question  decided,  it  handed  over  the  individual 
convicted  of  teaching  against  the  truth  to  the  civil 
authorities,  and  they  inflicted  the  penalty.  It  is 
true  that  the  church  taught  that  the  state  ought 
to  inflict  penalties ;  it  did  this  in  no  uncertain  lan- 
guage. Thomas  Aquinas  said:  "The  corruption 
of  doctrine  is  worse  than  the  corruption  of  coin; 
because  the  corruption  of  doctrine  threatens  the 
eternal  soul,  and  corruption  of  coin  only  impairs 
the  present  commercial  prosperity."  But  theoret- 
ically the  church  left  the  state  to  protect  the  com- 
munity from  false  doctrine;  while  it  determined 
what  was  true  and  what  was  false. 

Thus,  historically,  grew  up  the  doctrine  that 
the  state  and  church  combined  are  to  determine 
what  is  religious  truth,  and  are  to  protect  the  com- 
munity from  religious  error.  This  doctrine  rests 
on  four  postulates.  The  first  postulate  is,  that 
the  fundamental  need  of  humanity,  preeminent  and 
transcending  all  other  needs,  is  the  need  of  reli- 
gious truth ;  that  there  is  a  system  of  comprehensive 
religious  truth,  which  can  be  known,  and  every 
man  ought  to  be  enabled  to  learn  it;  that  if  every 


178 


THE  EIGHTS  OF  MAN 


individual  is  left  to  find  out  the  truth  for  himself, 

and  to  preach  truth  or  error  as  he  pleases,  room 
is  left  for  perpetual  confusion,  and  the  foundations 
of  accuracy  and  certitude  in  the  whole  realm  of 
religious  teaching  are  destroyed.  This  doctrine 
is  clearly  expressed  by  John  Henry  Newman  in 
his  essay  on  Private  Judgment,  written  before  he 
became  a  Koman  Catholic :  — 

There  is  this  obvious,  undeniable  difficulty  in  the  at- 
tempt to  form  a  theory  of  Private  Judgment,  in  the 
choice  of  a  religion,  that  Private  Judgment  leads  differ- 
ent minds  in  such  different  directions.  If,  indeed,  there 
be  no  religious  truth,  or  at  least  no  sufficient  means  of 
arriving  at  it,  then  the  difficulty  vanishes :  for  where 
there  is  nothing  to  find  there  can  be  no  rules  for  seeking, 
and  contradiction  in  the  result  is  but  a  reductio  ad 
absurdum  of  the  attempt.  But  such  a  conclusion  is  in- 
tolerable to  those  who  search,  else  they  would  not  search  ; 
and  therefore  on  them  the  obligation  hes  to  explain,  if 
they  can,  how  it  comes  to  pass  that  Private  Judgment  is 
a  duty,  and  an  advantage,  and  a  success,  considering  it 
leads  the  way  not  only  to  their  own  faith,  whatever  that 
may  be,  but  to  opinions  which  are  diametrically  opposite 
to  it ;  considering  it  not  only  leads  them  right,  but  leads 
others  wrong,  landing  them  as  it  may  be  in  the  Church  of 
Pome,  or  in  the  Wesleyan  connection,  or  in  the  Society 
of  Friends. 

This  assumes  that  the  object  of  the  quest  of 
man  is  to  know  religious  truth,  and  that  the  know- 
ledge of  such  truth  is  a  fundamental  necessity  of 
the  religious  life. 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 


179 


The  second  postulate  is  that,  inasmuch  as  there 
is  a  necessity  for  a  revelation  of  a  complete  and 
comprehensive  system  of  religious  truth,  there  has 
been  given  to  the  world  by  God  a  complete  and 
comprehensive  organization  to  furnish  this  system 
of  religious  truth.  This  postulate  is  thus  stated  by 
William  Ewart  Gladstone;  after  speaking  of  the 
necessity  of  developing  the  religious  life,  he  goes 
on  as  follows :  — 

This  was  to  be  done  by  making  men  sensible  that 
God's  dispensation  of  love  was  not  a  dispensation  to 
communicate  his  gifts  by  ten  thousand  separate  channels, 
nor  to  establish  with  ten  thousand  elected  souls  as  many 
distinct,  independent  relations.  Nor,  again,  was  it  to 
leave  them  unaided,  to  devise  and  set  in  motion  for 
themselves  a  machinery  for  making  sympathy  available 
and  cooperation  practicable  among  the  children  of  a 
common  Father.  But  it  was  to  call  them  all  into  one 
spacious  fold,  under  one  tender  Shepherd  ;  to  place  them 
aU  upon  one  level ;  to  feed  them  all  with  one  food  ;  to 
surround  them  all  with  one  defense  ;  to  impart  to  them 
all  the  deepest,  the  most  inward  and  vital  sentiment  of 
community  and  brotherhood  and  identity,  as  in  their 
fall  so  in  their  recovery,  as  in  their  perils  so  in  their 
hopes,  as  in  their  sins  so  in  their  graces,  and  in  the 
means  and  channels  for  receiving  them.^ 

The  third  postulate  is  that  it  is  wrong  for  indi-  y 
viduals  to  set  themselves  apart  from  this  divine 
order  or  to  teach  something  different  from  that 
which  the  order  is  teaching.    Such  teachers  are 
1  W.  E.  Gladstone  :  Gleanings  of  Past  Years,  vol.  i. 


180 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


disturbers  of  the  public  peace,  they  are  under- 
miners  of  the  Christian  faith,  they  are  enemies  of 
the  church,  they  are  foes  to  religion,  and  they 
ought  not  to  complain  if  they  are  made  to  suffer. 
Even  if  it  be  granted  that  some  agitation  is  neces- 
sary, even  if  it  be  granted  that  some  criticism  of 
the  church  is  permissible,  the  men  who  criticise 
should  be  willing  to  suffer  for  the  sake  of  their 
convictions.  This  doctrine  is  thus  stated  by  John 
Henry  Newman,  in  his  essay  on  Private  Judgment, 
from  which  I  have  already  quoted :  — 

The  first  remark  which  occurs  is  an  obvious  one,  and, 
we  suppose,  will  be  suffered  to  pass  without  much  oppo- 
sition, that,  whatever  be  the  intrinsic  merits  of  Private 
Judgment,  yet,  if  it  at  all  exerts  itself  in  the  direction  of 
proselytism  and  conversion,  a  certain  "  onus  probandi  " 
lies  upon  it,  and  it  must  show  cause  why  it  should  be  tol- 
erated, and  not  rather  treated  as  a  breach  of  the  peace  and 
silenced  "  instanter  "  as  a  mere  disturber  of  the  existing 
constitution  of  things.  Of  course  it  may  be  safely  exer- 
cised in  defending  what  is  established  ;  and  we  are  far 
indeed  from  saying  that  it  is  never  to  advance  in  the 
direction  of  change  or  revolution,  else  the  Gospel  itself 
could  never  have  been  introduced ;  but  we  consider  that 
serious  reUgious  changes  have  a  primd  facie  "  case 
against  them  ;  they  have  something  to  get  over,  and 
have  to  prove  their  admissibility  before  it  can  reasona- 
bly be  allowed ;  and  their  agents  may  be  called  upon  to 
suffer,  in  order  to  prove  their  earnestness,  and  to  pay 
the  penalty  of  the  trouble  they  are  causing. 

Both  these  statements  are  by  Protestants  —  one 
a  Protestant  up  to  the  time  of  his  death,  the  other 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 


181 


a  Protestant  at  the  time  of  writing  the  essay, 
though  afterward  a  Roman  Catholic. 

The  fourth  postulate  is  based  on  the  other  three. 
It  is  that,  if  the  state  has  the  power,  it  should  pun- 
ish the  teachers  of  error;  if  the  state  has  not  the 
power,  or  if  the  state  is  indifferent,  the  church 
should  punish  the  teacher  by  turning  out  of  its 
membership  the  man  who  does  not  agree  with  the 
comprehensive  and  complete  system  of  truth  held 
by  the  church  of  which  he  is  a  member. 

I  have  tried  to  state  this  doctrine  as  fairly  as  I 
can.  I  could  easily  have  given  quotations  from 
authorities  that  would  have  made  it  seem  more 
offensive.  I  wish  to  be  equally  explicit  in  my 
repudiation  of  the  doctrine  in  all  its  parts.  I 
deny  that  a  knowledge  of  religious  truth  is  the 
great  desideratum  of  life.  I  deny  that  there  is  or 
can  be  any  complete  or  comprehensive  system  of 
religious  truth.  I  deny  that  there  is  or  can  be 
any  organization  which  can  furnish  such  a  system 
of  religious  truth.  And,  therefore,  of  course  I 
deny  that  there  can  be  any  right,  either  in  church 
or  state,  to  punish,  by  either  physical  or  moral 
penalty,  the  man  who  dissents  from  the  commonly 
received  religious  opinion. 

What  is  religion?  Max  Miiller  defines  it  as 
"such  a  perception  of  the  manifestations  of  the 
Infinite  as  produces  a  moral  influence  on  the  con- 
duct and  character  of  man."  The  perception  of 
the  Infinite  is  not  religion,  that  is  theology;  a 
recognition  of  the  moral  relation  of  man  with  his 


182 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


fellow  man  is  not  religion,  that  is  ethics;  but 
such  a  perception  as  enlarges  and  enriches  the 
moral  life  and  conduct  of  man  is  religion. 

An  examination  of  other  definitions  confirms  the 
accuracy  of  Max  Miiller's.  Keligion  has  been 
defined  by  John  Henry  Newman  as  "the  know- 
ledge of  God  and  of  his  will,  and  of  our  duties 
toward  him."  ^  That  is  included  in  Max  Miiller's 
definition;  but  religion  is  more  than  "a  knowledge 
of  God  and  of  his  will,  and  of  our  duties  toward 
him."  One  may  have 'such  a  knowledge  and  be 
morally  indifferent  to  it.  Religion  has  been  de- 
fined as  "communion  between  a  worshiping  subject 
and  a  worshiped  object."  That  is  a  part  of  reli- 
gion ;  but  religion  is  not  confined  to  worship.  Re- 
ligion, indeed,  may  exist  where  there  is  no  con- 
scious worship;  religion  is  the  play  of  the  infinite 
on  the  finite  in  the  moral  realm.  Religion  has 
been  defined  by  Matthew  Arnold  as  "conduct 
touched  by  emotion; "  but  it  depends  on  what  the 
emotion  is :  if  the  emotion  comes  from  the  infinite, 
that  is  a  good  definition;  but  there  are  emotions 
^  of  a  baser  sort.  Religion  is  a  perception  of  God, 
J  and  such  a  perception  as  affects  the  moral  conduct 
and  character  of  the  one  who  perceives.  This  is 
the  religion  of  the  Old  Testament.  The  Old  Tes- 
tament is  not  a  book  about  religion;  it  is  not  a 
book  written  by  men  who  had  studied  in  the  phe- 
nomena of  life  the  manifestations  of  God,  and 
written  philosophically  about  them.  It  is  a  book 
1  A  Grammar  of  Assent,  p.  378. 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 


183 


o/* religion;  it  is  the  expression  of  the  life  of  men 
who  had  perceived  God  in  his  world.  Poet,  his- 
torian, prophet,  law-giver,  all  bear  testimony  to 
what  they  have  seen;  they  record  their  own  per- 
ception of  the  divine  within  themselves,  or  in  their 
fellows,  or  in  external  nature.  Turning  from  the 
Old  Testament  to  the  New,  we  find  this  also  a 
book  of  religion  as  religion  is  defined  by  Max 
Miiller.  The  Four  Gospels  are  written  by  men 
who  had  seen  the  divine  in  one  man,  and  wrote 
to  show  what  they  had  seen.  The  Book  of  Acts 
is  written  by  men  who  had  perceived  this  Infinite 
working  in  and  through  the  church.  The  Epistles 
are  letters  of  men  who  had  perceived  this  Infinite 
in  their  own  souls  or  in  the  souls  of  their  fellow 
men.  The  Apocalypse  is  written  by  some  one  who 
had  seen,  even  in  the  Neronian  persecution,  the 
hand  of  God,  and  foreseen  the  triumphs  of  the 
kingdom  of  God.  Old  and  New  Testament  alike 
answer  to  this  definition  of  religion,  that  it  is  such 
a  perception  of  the  Infinite  as  affects  the  conduct 
and  the  character  of  man. 

The  quest  of  humanity  is  after  this  perception 
of  the  Infinite.  It  is  a  quest,  not  after  truth 
about  God,  but  after  God  himself.  The  two^re 
not  the  same.  Knowing  the  life  of  Queen  Victoria 
as  you  read  it  in  the  daily  papers  is  not  know- 
ing Queen  Victoria.  Reading  a  skillful  analysis 
of  her  character  is  not  knowing  Queen  Victoria. 
Knowing  a  man  is  not  the  same  as  knowing  about 
a  man.    Knowing  God  is  not  the  same  as  knowing 


184 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


about  God.  The  office  of  religion  is  not  to  tell 
men  about  God;  it  is  to  bring  them  into  personal 
acquaintance  with  God ;  it  is  to  bring  them  into  a 
perception  of  the  Infinite  himself.  Truth  about 
God  is  some  one  else's  perception  of  the  Infinite. 
It  is  not  the  perception  of  a  perception  that  is  re- 
ligion ;  it  is  the  perception  of  God.    It  is  not  the 

/understanding  of  what  some  one  else  says  about 
him;  it  is  acquaintance  with  him. 

Therefore  the  Bible  cannot  take  the  place  of 
God.  Faith  in  the  Bible  is  not  religion;  faith 
in  God  is  religion.  Faith  is  seeing  Him  who  is 
invisible ;  faith  is  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen : 
but  the  Bible  is  not  unseen.  If  we  are  to  say  that 
there  may  be  faith  in  the  Bible,  then  it  is  faith 
in  the  invisible  spiritual  experiences  of  the  men 
who  wrote  the  book;  faith  is  not  in  the  book,  but 
in  the  life  which  is  transcribed  in  the  book;  and 
that  means  faith  in  God,  the  perception  of  whom 
is  testified  to  by  the  writers  of  the  book.  Faith 
in  the  church  is  not  religion.  The  church  is  a 
body  of  men  and  women  who,  more  or  less  clearly, 
have  had  some  perception  of  the  Infinite.  If  we 
come  into  their  fellowship,  and  through  sympathy 
get  from  that  fellowship  some  perception  of  God 
for  ourselves,  then  we  are  getting  a  true  religious 
life.  But  the  church  and  the  witness  of  the  church 
cannot  give  religion :  all  that  the  church  can  do 
is  to  report  the  experience  of  men  who  have  had 

/religion.  Religion  is  the  personal  perception,  the 
"  individual  experience.    Acceptance  of  a  creed  is 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 


185 


not  religion.  The  creed  is  something  which  the 
philosopher,  more  or  less  skillfully,  has  wrought 
out  of  the  experiences  of  those  who  have  perceived 
the  Infinite.  To  perceive  their  perception  is  not 
religion.  Nothing  is  religion  except  to  perceive 
what  they  perceived  or  what  the  men  perceived  out 
of  whose  perceptions  they  have  wrought  their  creed. 
Beading  Nansen  is  not  going  to  the  North  Pole. 
Believing  a  creed  is  not  perceiving  God. 

This  is  religion,  —  the  personal  perception  of 
the  Infinite.  This  is  the  quest  of  humanity,  —  not 
a  complete  knowledge,  not  a  comprehensive  sys- 
tem, but  God  himself,  —  nothing  less  than  God 
himself.  And  such  a  quest  must  necessarily  be 
personal.  It  must  be  conducted  by  each  man  for 
himself;  it  cannot  be  done  vicariously.  One  man 
may  tell  a  thousand  men  about  a  great  statesman, 
but  if  the  thousand  men  are  to  know  the  great 
statesman  they  must  meet  him  one  by  one.  There 
is  no  possible  way  by  which  a  personal  and  inti- 
mate acquaintance  can  be  acquired  for  one  soul 
vicariously  by  other  souls.  The  acquaintance 
must  be  acquired  by  each  man  for  himself.  This 
is  the  testimony  of  the  Bible ;  this  is  the  testimony 
of  history.  The  accessibility  of  God  to  every 
soul,  the  possibility  of  every  soul  coming  to  God, 
—  this  is  the  teaching  of  the  Bible,  from  its  open- 
ing statement  that  God  made  man  in  his  own 
image,  to  its  closing  statement  that  whosoever  will 
may  take  the  water  of  life  freely.  The  whole 
record  of  the  Bible  is  the  record  of  a  personal  re- 


186 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


lation  between  the  individual  soul  and  God.  These 
writers  talk  to  God,  God  answers  them;  they  walk 
with  him,  they  have  fellowship  with  him,  they 
report  that  fellowship.  He  is  their  friend,  their 
companion,  their  inspirer,  their  counselor,  their 
helper,  their  king,  their  father.  This  which  is 
the  teaching  of  the  Bible  is  the  teaching  of  his- 
tory. The  Hebrews  thought  they  were  the  chil- 
dren of  God,  and  that  God  had  no  paternal  rela- 
tionship with  the  pagan.  The  mediaeval  church 
thought  the  baptized  were  the  children  of  God, 
and  he  had  no  paternal  relation  with  the  unbap- 
tized.  The  Calvinist  thought  the  elect  were  the 
children  of  God,  and  that  he  had  no  paternal  rela- 
tion with  the  non-elect.  The  Methodist  thought 
that  God  was  the  father  of  those  who  had  passed 
through  a  certain  religious  experience,  and  that 
he  was  not  the  father  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 
We  are  now  coming  to  recognize  that  he  is  the 
father  of  Jew  and  Gentile,  baptized  and  unbap- 
tized,  elect  and  non-elect,  repentant  and  unrepent- 
ant, regenerate  and  unregenerate,  —  of  the  whole 
world.  Fatherhood  means  personal  relation.  A 
father  and  an  orphan  asylum  are  not  identical.  One 
may  get  food  and  shelter  from  the  orphan  asy- 
lum ;  but  he  cannot  get  fatherhood.  When  Christ 
says  to  us,  "Say  '  Our  Father  which  art  in  hea- 
ven,' "  he  really  says,  "Recognize  that  there  is  a 
personal  relation  between  you  and  God."  Neither 
the  Bible,  the  church,  nor  the  creed  can  serve  as  a 
substitute  for  this  personal  relationship  with  God 
as  a  Father  and  a  Friend. 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 


187 


The  whole  world  is  consciously  or  unconsciously  ^ 
seeking  acquaintance  and  cooperation  with  God. 
The  little  child  lies  in  the  cradle,  knowing  nothing. 
He  begins  to  observe  the  world  about  him.  At 
first  he  does  not  know  the  difference  between  the 
distance  to  an  electric  light  and  the  distance  to 
the  moon;  only  gradually  does  he  comprehend 
space;  at  last  he  learns  that  he  is  surrounded  by 
infinity.  He  begins  to  study  the  nature  of  matter : 
its  complexity,  and  finds  its  forms  infinite;  its 
history,  and  finds  for  it  no  beginning ;  its  probable 
future,  and  can  forecast  for  it  no  end;  thus  again 
he  finds  himself  surrounded  by  infinity.  He 
becomes  an  artist  or  a  musician,  studies  beauty  in 
color,  form,  and  sound,  and  soon  learns  that  there 
is  no  limit  to  the  combinations  which  produce 
beauty,  none  to  the  ideal  world,  a  little  of  which 
he  is  trying  to  translate  into  visible  or  audible 
forms;  he  also  is  studying  the  Infinite.  Or  he 
becomes  an  engineer;  deals  with  forces,  the  vari- 
ous manifestations  of  which  are  beyond  all  compu- 
tation, learns  that  all  forces  are  one  force,  gives 
himself  to  a  study  of  its  nature  that,  by  obeying 
its  laws,  he  may  command  its  service :  he  also  is 
studying  the  Infinite.  Or  he  goes  out  into  so- 
ciety, becomes  a  lawyer  or  a  statesman,  studies  the 
laws  of  human  nature,  seeks  both  to  understand 
their  nature  and  their  application  to  the  varied  re- 
lations of  life,  and  in  this  endeavor  learns  that 
there  are  such  laws  which  man  does  not  make  and 
cannot  unmake :  he  also  is  studying  the  Infinite. 


188 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


And  all  the  time  as  scientist,  artist,  engineer, 
statesman,  he  is  seeking  the  cooperation  of  the 
Infinite.  Unseen  forces  cooperate  with  the  farmer 
in  his  sowing  and  his  reaping;  with  the  mechanic 
in  his  factory ;  with  the  artist  in  his  painting ;  with 
the  statesman  in  his  building  and  his  guiding  of 
the  state.  Always  is  man  cooperating  with  a 
Partner  whom  he  never  sees,  of  whom  he  knows  a 
little,  of  whom  he  is  always  seeking  to  know  more, 
of  whom  he  can  never  know  all. 

This  quest  after  God  must  be  individual  and 
personal,  because  it  is  a  quest  after  a  personal 
God;  the  result  must  always  be  partial,  because 
the  quest  is  by  the  finite  concerning  the  infinite; 
the  knowledge  which  the  finite  gains  of  the  infinite 
must  always  be  fragmentary  and  imperfect.  A 
complete  and  perfect  system  of  truth  regarding  God 
and  divine  law  is  absolutely  impossible;  because 
God  and  divine  law  are  infinite,  and  we  are  finite. 
All,  therefore,  that  any  man  can  ever  see  is  some 
of  the  manifestations  of  God;  all  that  he  can  ever 
report  is  something  of  the  divine.  We  make  our 
different  excursions  into  the  infinite;  we  bring 
back  our  different  reports.  Let  me  quote  once 
more  from  John  Henry  Newman :  — 

There  is  this  obvious  and  undeniable  difficulty  in  at- 
tempting to  foim  a  theory  of  private  judgment  in  the 
choice  of  a  religion,  that  private  judgment  leads  differ- 
ent minds  in  such  different  directions. 

That  is  the  glory  of  it  —  the  splendor  of  it! 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS  189 


Send  ten  thousand  men  in  different  directions,  each 
to  look  with  his  own  eyes,  feel  with  his  own  heart, 
realize  in  his  own  experience  some  aspect  of  the  di- 
vine character,  and  they  will  bring  back  from  their 
quest  ten  thousand  manifestations  of  God,  —  each 
that  manifestation  which  he  is  capable  of  receiving. 

So  it  is  that  the  engineer  gets  a  conception  of 
the  power  of  God  which  the  artist  never  has; 
and  the  artist  a  conception  of  the  beauty  of  God 
which  the  mechanic  never  has;  and  the  mechanic  a 
conception  of  the  skill  of  God  which  the  statesman 
never  has ;  and  the  statesman  a  conception  of  the 
justice  of  God  which  the  divine  never  has;  and 
the  divine  a  conception  of  the  kinship  of  man  in 
the  spiritual  realm  with  God  which  the  others  do 
not  easily  get.  Each  has  his  own  point  of  view, 
each  sees  his  own  vision.  Private  judgment  has 
broken  the  church  up,  —  thank  God  for  it !  For 
it  is  not  individuals  alone,  it  is  churches  also,  that 
get  their  different  points  of  view.  Each  sees  a 
little,  none  sees  all.  The  Calvinist  says,  "God 
is  a  sovereign,  and  rules  the  whole  world  with  in- 
finite, unvarying,  unalterable  law."  The  Metho- 
dist says,  "Man  is  a  free  moral  agent;  he  can  do 
what  he  will,  he  is  personally  responsible  for  his 
actions."  And  not  till  after  centuries  of  contro- 
versy does  it  at  last  begin  to  dawn  on  both  that 
we  may  be  living  in  a  world  of  free  moral  agents, 
under  a  divine  sovereign.  Onfc  theologian  de- 
clares that  God  is  just  and  must  maintain  his  law, 
and  will  to  the  end  of  time,  cost  what  it  may. 


190 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Another  theologian  declares  that  God  is  merciful,  * 
tender,  and  compassionate,  and  cares  for  the  in- 
dividual. Not  till  after  centuries  of  controversy 
do  we  at  last  begin  to  learn  that  mercy  and  justice 
are  simply  different  phases  of  the  same  character, 
that  their  demands  are  confirmatory,  not  contra- 
dictory, and  that  the  greatest  penalty  which  society 
can  put  upon  a  deliberate  criminal  is  to  place  him 
under  redemptive  influences  until  he  is  reformed. 
Formerly  the  Unitarian  said,  Christ  cannot  be 
God,  he  is  merel}'  man;  the  Trinitarian  said, 
Christ  cannot  be  merely  man,  he  is  God.  We  are 
beginning  to  learn  that  there  is  a  human  life  in 
God,  that  there  is  a  divine  life  in  man,  that  God 
is  best  seen  in  humanity,  that  humanity  is  never 
seen  at  its  best  and  truest  self  except  as  God 
dwells  in  it  and  makes  it  divine. 

v/"*  I  hear  a  great  deal  about  the  virtue  of  tolera- 
tion. I  do  not  believe  in  toleration.  I  do  not 
thank  any  man  for  tolerating  me;  and  I  cannot 
conceive  of  myself  as  tolerating  Cardinal  Gibbons, 
who  represents  one  extreme  in  ecclesiasticism,  or 
President  Eliot,  who  represents  another  extreme 
in  ecclesiasticism.  It  is  not  toleration,  it  is  cath- 
olicity we  need;  it  is  not  indifference  to  error,  it 
is  the  humility  of  mind  which  says,  I  see  in  part 
/and  I  prophesy  in  part;  my  brother  sees  in  part 

]  /  and  prophesies  in  part;  and  by  and  by  we  will 
put  these  parts  together,  and  then  we  shall  — 
know  it  all?  No.  Then  we  shall  know  a  little 
more  than  we  know  at  present. 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 


191 


These,  then,  are  my  postulates.  There  is  no 
complete  and  comprehensive  system  of  the  infi- 
nite, and  cannot  be.  If  there  were,  it  would  do 
us  no  great  good  to  have  it;  it  is  not  what  we 
need.  There  is  a  personal  quest  after  the  Infinite, 
and  there  is  possible,  what  is  far  better  than  a 
knowledge  of  truth,  a  personal  acquaintance  with 
God.  It  is  the  right  of  man  to  pursue  this  quest 
unhindered;  to  find  God  for  himself,  in  his  own 
way,  with  his  own  faculties,  after  his  own  fash- 
ion. This  is  the  absolute  right  of  every  man;  his 
absolute  right  because  God  is  accessible  to  all 
men ;  his  absolute  right  because  this  acquaintance 
with  God  is  the  divine  end  of  his  existence.  When 
a  state  interposes  and  prohibits  this  quest ;  when  it 
says  to  any  man,  '^You  must  not  find  out  God  for 
yourself,  or  tell  what  you  have  found  out  to  oth- 
ers," that  state  is  violating  the  fundamental  right 
of  man.  When  any  church  says  to  any  man, 
"You  must  not  look  for  God  yourself,  you  must 
take  our  definition  of  him;  you  must  not  go  be- 
yond the  lines  of  that  definition,  or  expect  to  find 
any  new  thing  about  him,"  that  church  is  not 
only  not  doing  its  function,  it  is  directly  antago- 
nizing its  function.  It  is  preventing  men  from 
seeking  God  for  themselves,  by  putting  an  eccle- 
siastical organization  between  the  soul  and  its 
Father.  When  a  creed  is  offered  to  men,  and 
they  are  required  to  take  it  under  penalty  of  some 
obloquy  if  they  reject  it,  the  imposition  of  such 
a  creed  violates  the  fundamental  right  of  man  to 


192 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


find  God  for  himself.  All  creeds  have  some  truth 
in  them ;  no  creeds  have  all  truth  in  them.  I  am 
almost  prepared  to  say  that  it  would  be  safe  to 
believe  all  the  affirmations  of  all  the  creeds,  and  to 
reject  all  their  denials.  Whenever  a  body  of  de- 
vout men  have  come  saying,  "We  have  found  this 
in  the  infinite,"  their  report  of  what  they  have 
found  is  presumptively  true.  Whenever  they  have 
comeback  saying,  "We  have  not  found  this,"  it 
does  not  in  the  least  indicate  that  what  they  have 
not  found  may  not  be  there. 

In  all  other  ranks  of  life  we  recognize  the  fact 
that  the  infinite  is  infinite,  and  that  finite  discov- 
eries are  but  fragmentary  and  partial.  We  crown 
with  honor  the  man  who  brings  back  from  the  in- 
finite a  new  discovery.  He  has  been  out  into  the 
infinite  space  and  found  a  new  world  with  his  tel- 
escope; he  has  been  out  into  the  infinite  forces 
of  nature  and  discovered  a  new  force  which  he  can 
set  to  work  for  the  good  of  mankind;  he  has 
been  out  into  the  infinite  of  music  and  created  a 
new  symphony;  he  has  been  out  into  the  infinite 
realm  of  color  and  learned  how  to  paint,  not 
merely  trees  and  rocks,  but  the  very  atmosphere 
throu2:h  which  we  see  trees  and  rocks.  We  honor 
,  the  new  school  of  art,  of  music,  of  astronomy.  It 
is  only  the  church  that  has  thought  God  little  and 
has  thought  man  big.  It  is  only  the  church  that 
has  condemned  the  man  who  has  gone  out  into  the 
infinite  and  brought  back  a  new  vision  of  God. 
I  have  sometimes  thought  I  should  like  to  write 


RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS 


193 


a  history  of  the  church,  for  the  purpose  of  show- 
ing that  Christianity  must  be  supernatural  to  have 
lived  despite  so  many  blunders  by  its  friends. 

Agnosticism  says,  "We  can  know  nothing  about 
the  Infinite."  "All  talk  of  God,"  says  Professor 
Huxley,  "  is  like  sounding  brass  and  tinkling  cym- 
bals;" and  then  he  goes  on  to  write  four  or  five 
volumes  on  the  subject !  Dogmatism  is  first  cousin 
to  agnosticism,  for  dogmatism  says,  "We  cannot 
know  anything  about  God  except  what  other  peo- 
ple tell  us."  Over  against  both  I  here  put  the 
foundations  of  religious  liberty,  —  the  accessibility 
of  God  to  every  soul,  and  the  consequent  right  of  . 
every  soul  to  find  God  by  its  own  quest,  in  its 
own  way.  We  need  to  get  away  from  the  notion 
that  the  end  of  religious  life  is  the  acquisition 
of  truth,  and  to  realize  that  it  is  the  acquisition 
of  God;  away  from  the  notion  that  there  is  or 
can  be  a  complete  system  of  truth  about  God  and 
divine  law,  and  realize  that  he  is  infinite  and  we 
are  finite,  and  that  we  can  but  know  in  part  and 
prophesy  in  part;  away  from  the  notion  that  the 
church  is  primarily  a  teaching  institution,  equipped 
with  truth  which  it  is  to  give  to  others,  and  to 
learn  that  the  church  is  a  life-giving  institution, 
stirring  men  up  to  do  their  own  thinking,  that  each 
may  reach  for  himself  his  own  result;  away  from 
the  mediaeval  notion  that  the  loyalty  of  the  Chris- 
tian is  to  be  to  an  organization,  a  creed,  or  a  book, 
and  learn  that  it  is  to  be  to  the  Jehovah  of  the 
Old  Testatment,  the  Christ  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, the  God  of  all  life. 


LECTURE  VII 


THE   AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY 

I  SHALL  venture  to-night  to  recall  your  atten- 
tion to  the  principles  which  I  have  endeavored, 
in  the  preceding  lectures  of  this  course,  to  illus- 
trate. 

In  the  first  lecture,  I  endeavored  to  trace  the 
conflict  between  the  Hebraic  commonwealth  and 
Eoman  imperialism,  and  to  show  how,  as  the  re- 
sult of  that  conflict,  Roman  imperialism  was  over- 
thrown; in  the  second  lecture  I  endeavored  to 
show  how  the  fundamental  principle  —  that  the 
world  and  life  are  made  for  all  men  and  not  for 
a  few  —  has  been  gradually  wrought  out  in  reli- 
gion, in  politics,  in  industry,  in  education;  in  the 
third  lecture  I  applied  this  fundamental  principle 
to  government,  and  endeavored  to  show  that  just 
governments  are  organized  and  administered  for 
the  benefit  of  those  that  are  governed,  not  for  the 
benefit  of  those  who  do  the  governing,  but  that 
this  does  not  necessarily  mean  that  those  who  are 
governed  must  have  a  share  in  the  government; 
in  the  fourth  lecture  I  attempted  to  apply  the  same 
principle  to  industry,  and  to  show  that  the  indus- 
trial rights  of  man  involve  the  right  of  every  man 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  195 


to  the  profit  of  his  own  industry  and  to  his  share 
in  the  common  wealth,  that  is,  that  wealth  which 
is  not  the  product  of  any  man's  industry  but  the 
gift  of  God,  but  this  does  not  necessarily  involve 
the  doctrine  that  all  such  property  shall  be  held  or 
administered  in  common ;  in  the  fifth  lecture,  ap- 
plying the  same  principle  to  education,  I  endeav- 
ored to  show  the  right  of  every  man  to  a  free  and 
full  development  of  all  his  powers,  physical,  intel- 
lectual, moral,  and  spiritual,  and  that  in  a  govern- 
ment which  rests  on  the  political  cooperation  of  its 
citizens,  it  is  the  duty  of  the  state  to  provide  such 
education  as  is  necessary  to  enable  every  member 
of  society  to  fulfill  the  functions  of  good  citizen- 
ship; in  the  sixth  lecture,  applying  the  same 
principle  in  the  sphere  of  religion,  I  attempted  to 
show  that  every  man  stands  in  a  personal  relation 
to  God,  somewhat  analogous  to  that  of  a  child  to 
its  father,  and  that  therefore  every  man  has  a 
right  to  go  to  God,  to  learn  what  he  can  of  God, 
and  to  bring  back  and  tell  to  his  fellow  men  what 
he  has  learned,  or  what  he  thinks  he  has  learned, 
without  let,  hindrance,  obstacle,  or  interference  of 
any  kind,  from  either  state  or  church.  These 
fundamental  principles  all  rest  on  the  postulate 
that  the  world  and  life  are  made  for  all  men,  not 
for  a  few:  consequently  government  must  be  for 
the  benefit  of  the  governed,  the  common  wealth 
must  be  administered  for  the  benefit  of  the  com- 
mon people,  education  must  be  for  all,  not  for  a 
few,  and  both  church  and  state  must  recognize  and 


196 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


respect  the  right  and  liberty  of  every  man  to  give 
forth  as  he  will  his  own  interpretation  of  the  In- 
finite and  the  Eternal. 

America  represents  these  four  fundamental  prin- 
ciples better  than  any  other  nation  now  represents 
them,  and  better  than  they  ever  have  been  repre- 
sented by  any  nation  in  the  past.  But  America 
represents  more  than  these  principles.  Democracy, 
as  represented  in  America,  means  that  the  people 
themselves  are  trusted  to  administer  their  own 
government,  to  carry  on  their  own  industries,  to 
organize  their  own  educational  system,  to  develop 
their  own  religious  life.  Democracy  is  more  than 
a  scheme  of  government,  more  than  a  theory  of 
economics,  more  than  a  plan  of  education,  more 
4;han  a  form  of  religious  institutions.  Democracy 
is  a  great  religious  faith :  a  superstitious  faith,  if 
you  will,  but  a  great  religious  faith.  It  is  faith 
in  man.  It  is  not  merely  good  will  toward  man, 
—  autocracy  might  be  that;  not  merely  hope  for 
man, — autocracy  might  be  that:  it  is  faith  in 
man;  autocracy  never  is  that. 

Every  man  has  his  distinctive  peculiarities.  He 
is  a  poet,  an  orator,  a  statesman;  he  is  great  in 
some  virtue,  as  courage  or  gentleness  or  patience. 
Rarely  is  any  man  great  in  all  virtues;  never  is 
any  man  great  on  all  sides  of  his  nature.  As 
every  man  has  his  own  distinctive  characteristics, 
so  has  every  nation.  It  is  not  always  conscious  of 
its  own  characteristics,  it  is  not  always  consistent 
in  manifesting  those  characteristics.    But  a  nation 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  197 


has  its  distinctive  characteristic,  as  does  the  race 
or  the  tribe  or  the  individual.  Thus  the  distinc- 
tive characteristic  of  ancient  Rome  was  autocracy, 
of  Venice  oligarchy,  of  England  in  the  eighteenth 
century  aristocracy.  In  the  sense  in  which  Rome 
was  autocratic,  Venice  oligarchic,  England  aristo- 
cratic, America  is  democratic.  That  is,  the  insti-  , . 
tutions,  the  history,  the  life  of  America,  have  been 
pervaded  by  the  spirit,  not  merely  of  good  will 
toward  man,  and  of  large  hope  for  man,  but  also 
of  faith  in  man.  America  has  not  always  been  con-  ^  . 
scions  of  the  spirit  which  has  possessed  her;  she  has 
not  always  consistently  carried  out  the  principles 
which  she  has  professed.  Neither  has  any  nation, 
neither  has  any  individual.  But  as  distinguished 
from  the  other  nations  of  the  earth,  America  is  dis- 
tinctively democratic.  That  is,  she  has  distinc- 
tively a  spirit  of  good  will  toward  all  men,  hope  for 
all  men,  faith  in  all  men.  This  good  will  may  have 
sometimes  been  unwise,  this  hope  may  have  some- 
times been  visionary  and  extravagant,  this  faith 
may  have  sometimes  been  audacious  and  ill-based. 
I  am  not  eulogizing  America  ;  I  am  not  even  de- 
fending America;  I  am  only  trying  to  describe 
America. 

What  are  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of 
this  nation  ?  Let  us  forget  for  a  moment  that  we 
are  Americans,  and  stand  apart  and  look  at  our 
country.  Not  greatness  of  territory:  Russia  has 
greater  territory  than  America.  Not  greatness  of 
population :  China  has  a  greater  and  a  far  denser 


198 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


population  than  America.  Not  wealth:  Great 
Britain  has  perhaps  as  great  wealth  as  America. 
Not  the  tendency  to  crowd  into  cities :  that  ten- 
dency is  as  marked  in  Germany  and  in  England  as 
in  our  own  West.  Not  any  of  these  things  are  dis- 
tinctively characteristic  of  America.  Nor  are  the 
vices  which  are  sometimes  attributed  to  her,  and 
of  which  she  is  indeed  guilty;  they  are  character- 
istic, but  they  are  not  distinctive.  It  is  sometimes 
said  that  drunkenness  is  distinctively  characteris- 
tic of  the  American  people ;  it  is  not  true.  There 
is  a  great  deal  too  much  drunkenness  in  America, 
but  on  the  whole  it  may  safely  be  said  that  there  is 
proportionally  more  drinking  and  less  drunkenness 
in  America  than  in  any  other  country  possessing  a 
similar  climate.  There  is  certainly  less  than  in 
England  or  Scotland  or  France ;  and  if  in  the  term 
"drunkenness"  you  include  the  stupefying  influ- 
ence of  alcohol  as  well  as  its  inebriating  effect, 
then  there  is  more  drunkenness  in  Germany  than 
in  America.  There  are  more  drunken  people  to 
be  met  in  a  day  in  London  or  Edinburgh  than  one 
will  meet  in  a  week  in  Boston  or  New  York. 

Corruption  is  not  a  distinctive  characteristic  of 
America.  If  one  were  to  form  his  judgment  from 
some  of  our  orators,  and  our  newspapers,  he  would 
imagine  this  was  the  most  corrupt  nation  on  the 
face  of  the  earth.  But  it  is  not.  Our  own  Credit 
Mobilier  scandals  were  equaled  if  not  surpassed 
by  those  in  France  in  connection  with  the  Panama 
Canal.    Our  own  political  corruption,  even  in 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  199 


New  York,  has  been  surpassed  by  the  political  cor- 
ruption unearthed  in  the  last  war  in  Spain.  And 
every  man  who  is  familiar  with  the  political  his- 
tory of  England  in  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth 
and  in  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century 
knows  that  England  was  more  honeycombed  with 
corruption,  and  corruption  in  higher  quarters,  than 
America  has  ever  known  in  any  period  of  her  his- 
tory. I  do  not  palliate  American  corruption.  1/ 
am  not  apologizing  for  it  by  the  plea  that  we  are 
no  worse  than  our  neighbors.  I  am  simply  saying 
that  corruption  is  not  distinctively  American.  It 
is  characteristic  of  the  commercial  age  in  which  we 
live,  and  it  belongs  to  Berlin  and  Paris  as  well  as 
to  New  York  or  Washington.  It  is  the  vice  of  our 
age,  not  of  our  peculiar  democratic  development. 
It  is  all  the  more  dangerous  because  it  is  world- 
wide ;  but  it  is  not  the  distinguishing  characteristic 
of  the  American  people. 

There  is,  perhaps,  more  reason  to  say  that  law- 
lessness is  a  characteristic  of  America.  Lynch 
law  in  our  more  sparsely  settled  regions  is  un- 
doubtedly common,  —  lynch  law  aggravated  in 
some  instances  by  race  prejudice.  And  yet  law- 
lessness is  by  no  means  a  distinctive  peculiarity  of 
America.  There  is  more  violence  in  an  English 
election  than  there  is  in  an  American  election. 
The  scenes  of  lawlessness  in  the  French  Assembly, 
in  the  Austro-Hungarian  Reichsrath,  and  in  the 
Italian  Chamber,  within  the  last  few  years,  have 
far  surpassed  anything  that  has  been  witnessed  in 


200 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


either  our  Congress  or  any  one  of  our  state  legis- 
latures. The  spirit  of  lawlessness  belongs  to  the 
uprising  of  democracy;  it  belongs  to  an  age  in 
which  men  have  had  the  manacles  taken  off  and 
have  not  yet  learned  how  to  use  their  hands.  It 
belongs  to  an  age  in  which  men  have  been  set  free 
from  the  control  of  others  and  have  not  yet  fully 
acquired  control  of  themselves.  It  belongs  to  the 
nineteenth  century  rather  than  to  the  United 
States. 

Are  there  any  characteristics  of  America  which 
differentiate  it  from  other  lands,  —  which  are  un- 
like those  of  France  or  Germany  or  Italy  or  Spain 
or  England? 

In  the  first  place,  in  America  the  people  are 
trusted  to  govern  themselves,  and  they  are  thus 
recognized  as  the  source  of  authority.  The  demo- 
cracy of  America  differs  from  that  of  France  and 
from  that  of  England  in  this  fundamental  respect. 
All  the  powers  of  the  locality  in  France,  and  in 
England,  are  derived  from  the  central  govern- 
ment. In  England  the  county  has  just  so  much 
power  as  Parliament  chooses  to  give.  In  France 
the  arrondissement  has  just  so  much  power  as  the 
French  Assembly  chooses  to  give.  The  process  is 
exactly  reversed  in  America.  Our  Constitution 
assumes,  first,  that  every  man  is  not  necessarily 
competent  to  govern  himself,  but  more  competent 
to  govern  himself  than  any  one  else  is  to  govern 
him;  second,  that  each  locality  is  able  to  take  care 
of  its  own  affairs  better  than  any  other  locality  is  to 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  201 


take  care  of  its  affairs  for  it.  So  we  have,  first,  in- 
dividual self-government;  next,  local  self -govern-  ^ 
ment,  —  home-rule  in  town  or  city  or  county ;  then 
the  larger  affairs  of  the  state  cared  for  by  all  the 
people  of  the  state ;  and  finally,  those  things  which 
belong  neither  to  the  individual  nor  to  the  city  nor 
to  the  county  nor  to  the  state,  but  to  the  whole 
federation  of  states,  —  those,  and  those  alone,  are 
relegated  to  the  federal  Congress.  The  authority  ^ 
of  the  people  is  initiative  and  primary  in  America; 
it  is  derived  and  secondary  in  Europe.  All  the 
powers  of  the  central  government  are  derivative 
here;  all  the  powers  of  the  individual  and  the  lo- 
cality are  derivative  there.  In  other  words,  the 
American  nation  started  with  the  assumption  that 
the  people  should  be  permitted  to  govern  them- 
selves; this  is  faith  in  the  people.  It  was  not  at 
first  as  wide  a  faith  as  it  is  to-day.  In  the  origi- 
nal constitutions  of  our  several  states,  there  were 
qualifications  for  suffrage  that  no  longer  exist; 
some  of  them  were  religious  qualifications,  some 
of  them  property  qualifications,  some  of  them  edu- 
cational qualifications.  Most  of  these  have  been 
swept  away,  whether  wisely  or  unwisely,  I  do  not 
now  stop  to  discuss.  I  only  point  out  that  faith  V 
in  the  ability  of  men  to  govern  themselves  has 
been  increasing.    Democracy  is  faith  in  man. 

Nor  has  it  only  been  faith  in  man's  judgment  to 
decide  great  questions,  but  also  faith  in  his  power 
of  self-restraint  to  submit  to  the  decision  when  it 
is  made.    We  are  so  accustomed  to  our  American 


202 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


y  method  that  we  hardly  recognize  the  greatness  of 
the  experiment  upon  which  we  have  entered.  Will 
we  have  silver  or  gold  for  our  currency?  We 
do  not  ask  experts  to  decide  the  question  for  us. 
We  submit  it  to  the  whole  American  people,  and 
the  porter  who  sweeps  out  the  bank  has  as  much 
power  —  though  not  as  much  influence  —  in  de- 
termining that  question  as  the  president  or  the 
cashier  of  the  bank.  The  question  confronts  us, 
Shall  we  enter  into  new  world-relations?  What 
shall  be  our  relation  to  Cuba,  to  Porto  Eico,  to 
Hawaii,  to  the  Philippine  Islands?  We  do  not 
gather  a  small  body  of  expert  statesmen  and  leave 
to  them  the  decision  of  the  problem;  we  do  not 
even  submit  it  to  a  few  college  professors,  or  to 
men  skilled  in  diplomatic  affairs,  or  versed  in  con- 
stitutional history.  The  whole  American  people 
organize  themselves  into  a  great  debating  society; 
and  after  the  debate  has  been  carried  on  one  or 
two  years,  —  in  the  last  three  months  with  great 
excitement  and  sometimes  too  much  passion,  — 
fourteen  million  people  decide  the  question,  four- 
teen million  of  all  classes,  conditions,  characters, 
and  grades  of  education.  Nor  is  that  all;  we  not 
only  trust  the  American  people  to  decide,  but  we 
trust  in  their  self-restraint  to  abide  by  the  decision. 
If,  as  has  happened  more  than  once,  the  majority  of 
the  people  vote  in  one  way,  and  the  majority  of 
the  presidential  electors  vote  the  other,  the  major- 
ity submits  to  the  decision  of  the  minority  and 
helps  to  carry  it  out.    We  not  only  believe  in  the 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  203 


potential  capacity  of  men  to  decide  the  most  fun- 
damental questions  of  national  life  for  themselves : 
we  also  believe  —  and  act  on  that  belief  and  in- 
corporate it  into  our  institutions  —  that  when  a 
question  is  decided  against  their  judgment,  or  even 
against  their  conscience,  they  will  submit  until 
they  have  changed  the  judgment  or  the  conscience 
of  their  fellow  men.  The  most  striking  illustra- 
tion of  this  trust  of  the  American  people  in  the 
self -restraining  power  of  man  is  seen  in  the  organ- 
ization of  our  United  States  Supreme  Court,  which 
is  regarded  by  all  writers  on  law  as  the  greatest 
contribution  which  our  fathers  made,  in  the  for- 
mation of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
to  political  organization.  We  have  on  this  con- 
tinent forty -five  independent  states.  Questions 
arise  between  these  states.  If  such  questions 
were  to  arise  between  European  states,  they  would 
arm  and  go  to  war.  Some  forty  or  fifty  questions 
have  so  arisen  in  the  history  of  the  United  States, 
which  would  have  been  quite  sufficient  cause  for 
war  in  Europe.  They  have  been  submitted  to  a 
selected  body  of  a  dozen  or  fifteen  gentlemen  sit- 
ting in  Washington.  Those  gentlemen  are  not 
the  wisest  men  in  the  world,  they  are  not  neces- 
sarily the  wisest  men  in  the  United  States ;  there 
are  scores,  perhaps  hundreds  of  lawyers  as  wise, 
disinterested,  and  dispassionate.  But  we  have 
selected  these  particular  gentlemen,  put  them  on 
the  bench,  and  said  to  them,  "These  great  ques- 
tions we  will  leave  to  you."    To-day  the  Ameri- 


204 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


can  people  is  divided  in  opinion  as  to  the  right 
of  this  people,  under  its  constitution,  to  hold  ter- 
ritory which  is  not  incorporated  within  the  nation. 
We  have  our  different  opinions,  and  we  have  a 
right  to  them.  The  ablest  men  are  divided  on 
the  question.  The  question  has  been  submitted  to 
these  judges  of  a  Supreme  Court;  it  is  decided,  by 
a  majority  of  one,  and  the  whole  country  accepts 
that  decision  without  a  suggestion  of  resistance  or 
revolt.  We  had  a  hotly  contested  presidential 
election:  was  Mr.  Tilden  elected,  or  Mr.  Hayes? 
The  South  American  republics  would  have  been 
in  a  flame  of  revolution.  We  organized  a  tribu- 
nal, submitted  the  question  to  the  tribunal,  and 
accepted  its  decision.  We  had  a  hotly  debated 
question  about  the  income  tax:  half  our  people 
said,  It  is  right  to  levy  an  income  tax;  it  is  just, 
honest,  constitutional,  it  ought  to  be  levied;  the 
other  half  said.  It  Is  wrong,  dishonest,  unconstitu- 
tional, it  ought  not  to  be  levied.  This  affected 
more  than  our  consciences :  it  affected  our  pockets. 
We  submitted  that  question  to  the  Supreme 
Court;  first  they  decided  in  favor  of  the  tax,  then 
they  decided  against  the  tax,  and  the  final  de- 
cision was  reached,  as  it  was  wittily  said,  "by  the 
indecision  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States."  When  it  was  decided,  no  one  thought  of 
resistance,  and  the  bare  suggestion  that  the  com- 
position of  the  court  might  be  changed  in  order  to 
secure  a  reversal  of  the  decision  was  received  with 
deep  and  widespread  indignation.    This  is  the 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  205 


faith  which  the  American  people  have  in  the  great 
masses  of  mankind,  not  only  that  they  have  capa- 
city potentially  to  decide  great  questions,  but 
power  of  moral  self-restraint  to  submit  when  ques- 
tions are  decided  against  them,  not  only  by  ma- 
jorities but  even  by  minorities,  not  only  by  minor- 
ities but  even  by  single  men. 

Along  with  this  faith  in  humanity  is  a  great 
hope  for  man ;  with  the  faith  that  every  man  ought 
to  have  a  chance  goes  a  hope  for  every  man  if  he 
gets  the  chance.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  aboli- 
tion o^  all  caste  and  class  distinctions.  It  is  a  dis- 
tinctive peculiarity  of  America  that  every  man  has 
an  open  door  set  before  him.  In  England,  at  least 
until  very  recently,  the  son  of  a  porter  was  ex- 
pected to  be  a  porter,  the  son  of  an  omnibus  driver 
to  be  an  omnibus  driver,  the  son  of  a  landed 
owner  became  as  matter  of  course  a  landed  owner, 
and  the  man  who  held  a  seat  in  Parliament  handed 
it  down  to  his  son.  All  this  we  have  done  away 
with  in  America.  Why?  Because  we  believe 
every  man  ought  to  have  a  chance,  because  we 
have  hope  for  every  man  that  he  can  make  some- 
thing out  of  his  chance.  This  spirit  of  hopeful- 
ness is  a  very  distinctive  characteristic  of  Amer- 
ican life;  of  this  spirit  and  the  grounds  of  it  I 
shall  have  something  to  say  in  a  succeeding  lecture. 

Out  of  this  has  grown,  not  merely  a  chance  for 
every  man,  but  a  system  of  education  to  give  men 
the  ability  to  take  advantage  of  that  chance.  Not 
only  the  workshop  is  open,  but  the  school  to  teach 


206 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


how  to  handle  tools;  not  only  the  professorship, 
but  the  school  to  teach  how  to  use  language ;  not 
only  the  mercantile  career,  but  the  school  to  teach 
book-keeping.  We  have  not  only  opened  the 
door,  but  we  have  gone  to  the  very  cradle  and 
said  to  every  child,  You  shall  have  an  education 
that  will  fit  you  to  enter  into  this  door,  to  take 
advantage  of  this  chance,  and  to  be  what  you  can. 
Our  school  system  is  founded  on  nothing  less  than 
a  belief  in  the  potentiality  of  man  and  of  every 
man.  Children  in  the  cradle  are  like  seeds,  and 
in  India  the  seeds  are  assorted,  put  in  separate 
bins,  and  called  castes.  In  America  there  is  no 
assortment;  no  man  knows  when  a  seed  is  dropped 
into  the  ground  whether  it  will  be  a  thistle,  a  stalk 
of  wheat,  or  a  tree.  We  leave  the  process  of  de- 
velopment to  make  what  can  be  made  out  of  each 
seed. 

At  the  same  time  we  have  thrown,  as  no  other 
^  nation  has,  the  religious  responsibility  wholly  upon 
the  people.  America  is  the  only  considerable 
country  on  the  globe  which  has  not  a  state  church, 
or  which  does  not  give  support  to  some  form  of 
religion  or  to  certain  forms  of  religion.  There 
are  two  distinguishing  features  in  the  religious  life 
of  the  United  States :  one  that  it  puts  no  obstacle 
in  the  way  of  any  man's  religion  or  irreligion;  the 
other  that  religion  is  the  free  expression  of  the  na- 
tional life.  A  man  may  advocate  worship  or  he  may 
denounce  worship ;  he  may  preach  Christianity  or 
he  may  vilify  Christianity ;  he  may  lecture  against 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  207 


it  in  halls  to  applauding  thousands  or  he  may- 
preach  in  support  of  it  in  the  church  to  unapplaud- 
ing  hundreds ;  the  law  does  not  interfere.  Robert 
Ingersoll  has  rendered  incidental  and  unintentional 
service,  for  the  very  fact  that  he  traveled  through- 
out this  country,  and  no  man  attempted  to  forbid 
him,  is  a  splendid  witness  to  the  truth  that  we 
believe  in  America  that  religion  and  irreligion  are 
absolutely  free.  As  a  result,  we  have  on  the  one 
hand  no  obstacle  put  upon  any  man's  worship  or 
no  worship,  and  on  the  other  hand  all  our  worship 
is  the  frank  expression  of  the  life  of  the  people. 
Our  churches  are  not  as  splendid  as  the  cathe- 
drals of  England,  of  France,  of  Germany,  and 
of  Italy;  but  there  is  not  a  brick,  nor  a  timber, 
nor  a  shingle,  nor  a  pane  of  glass  that  is  not  the 
witness  either  to  the  free  religion  of  the  people 
who  built  the  church,  or  to  the  vanity,  the  pride, 
and  the  self-glorification  that  apes  and  assumes 
the  habits  of  religion.  Our  religious  institutions 
in  America  are,  every  one  of  them,  the  free-will 
offering  of  a  free  people. 

And  we  have  not  only  trusted  ourselves,  but  we 
have  beckoned  to  other  peoples,  and  they  have 
come  from  Europe  flocking  to  our  shores,  —  men 
without  education,  without  training,  without  pre- 
vious background  of  history,  men  unfitted,  one 
would  say,  for  all  these  functions.  Steam  has 
bridged  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  and  over  this  bridge  a 
long  procession  marches,  half  a  million  every  year, 
—  Frenchmen,  Italians,  Germans,  Swiss,  Norwe- 


208 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


gians,  Spaniards,  Irish,  Hungarians,  Poles.  For 
a  long  time  we  asked  no  questions;  for  a  long 
time  we  let  any  man  come.  Now  we  exclude 
the  pauper,  the  diseased,  the  unmistakably  in- 
competent and  unworthy.  But  in  the  main  the 
door  is  thrown  wide  open.  Nor  is  that  all:  we 
have  offered  our  lands  to  them.  We  have  offered 
to  every  man  a  section  of  land  if  he  would  but 
occupy  and  cultivate  it.  Never  before  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  world  has  a  nation  thus  invited  the 
men  of  other  nations  to  come  and  compete  with 
them  in  industry.  It  may  be  said  that  this  was 
a  wise  financial  policy?  I  think  it  was.  That  it 
has  helped  to  develop  the  wealth  of  the  nation?  I 
believe  it  has.  That  it  has  enriched  us?  I  also 
think  so.  But  it  has  been  distinctively  a  policy 
of  good  will,  working  out  good  for  others  as  well 
as  for  ourselves;  and  a  policy  of  faith  in  man,  — 
faith  that  the  ignorant,  the  uncultivated,  the 
poorer  classes  of  foreign  lands,  had  in  them,  for 
themselves  and  for  their  children,  the  potentiality 
of  a  great  manhood. 

To  these  immigrants  we  have  given  equal  share 
in  all  the  advantages  we  possessed  ourselves:  we 
have  given  them  our  land,  we  have  opened  to  them 
our  schools,  we  have  welcomed  them  to  our  indus- 
tries, and  then,  with  the  smallest  possible  appren- 
ticeship, we  have  invited  them  to  a  share  in  our 
government,  to  take  part  in  controlling  the  des- 
tinies of  this  great  nation.  Was  this  wise?  I  shall 
have  something  to  say  about  that  by  and  by.  But 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  209 

this  is  what  we  have  done,  and  doing  it  was  char- 
acteristic of  us.  It  may  have  been  too  audacious, 
but  it  has  been  faith  in  man,  and  not  in  Anglo- 
Saxon  man  alone,  faith  in  all  men,  of  all  classes 
and  conditions. 

These  are  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of 
our  American  people:  faith  in  man's  capacity  for 
self-government,  in  his  power  of  self-restraint,  in 
his  readiness  to  receive  education,  in  his  ability  to 
solve  all  religious  problems  for  himself;  and  this 
faith,  not  merely  in  ourselves  and  our  kin,  but  in 
all  classes  and  conditions  of  men  of  all  races  and 
countries.  It  has  been  a  spirit  of  faith  in  man, 
hope  for  man,  good  will  toward  man. 

How  has  this  experiment  worked?  What  has 
been  the  result? 

In  the  first  place,  this  nation  has  grown  in  terri-^ 
tory  marvelously.  Within  this  hundred  years, 
beginning  as  a  little  strip  along  the  coast,  with  a 
population  not  greater  than  that  now  inhabiting 
Greater  New  York,  it  has  spread  out  until  it 
reaches  from  ocean  to  ocean,  and  from  the  Lakes 
to  the  Gulf.  In  the  second  place,  there  has  been 
a  marvelous  growth  in  population ;  from  five  mil- 
lion in  1800  to  seventy-five  million  in  1900,  —  a 
growth  in  population,  I  believe,  absolutely  unpar- 
alleled in  the  whole  history  of  the  globe.  But  this 
growth  in  population  has  been  less  than  the  growth 
in  wealth.  We  have  asked  the  poor  to  come  over 
here,  and  we  have  grown  richer.  We  have  asked 
the  ignorant  to  come  over  here,  and  we  have  grown 


210 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


richer.  While  our  population  has  increased  four- 
fold, from  1840  to  1890,  our  wealth  has  increased 
thirteen-fold.  In  other  words,  while  we  have  in- 
vited the  poor  of  other  lands  to  come  hither  and 
share  our  wealth  with  us,  that  wealth  has  grown 
more  than  three  times  as  fast  as  our  population. 
There  has  never  been,  in  the  history  of  the  globe, 
such  a  growth  in  wealth  as  in  America. 

The  external  development  of  our  religious  insti- 
tutions has  been  equally  great.  We  have  thrown 
the  responsibility  for  religious  institutions  upon 
the  people.  We  have  been  warned  against  this 
course;  English  writers  said,  It  will  never  do; 
you  cannot  maintain  the  church  if  you  do  not 
support  it  by  the  state.  But  our  churches  have 
grown  faster  than  our  population.  Dr.  Dorches- 
ter, in  some  statistics  published  in  the  "  Congrega- 
tionalist "  of  December  29,  1900,  tells  us  that  in 
the  hundred  years  1800-1900,  the  population  has 
increased  fourteen-fold,  and  the  membership  in 
the  Evangelical  Protestant  churches  has  increased 
fifty-fold.  Consider  what  that  means:  with  all 
the  rapidity  of  our  growth,  increased  by  immigra- 
tion from  foreign  sources,  the  growth  in  the  Evan- 
gelical Protestant  churches  has  been  fifty-fold, 
against  fourteen-fold  growth  in  population.  And 
this  does  not  begin  to  indicate  what  has  been  the 
numerical  growth  of  the  churches;  for  to  these 
figures  must  be  added  the  communicants  in  the 
Eoman  Catholic  Church,  the  adherents  in  the  Jew- 
ish synagogues,  and  the  members  in  all  the  so-called 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  211 


Liberal  churches  and  Ethical  Societies.  Along  with 
this  growth  in  numbers  and  in  organization,  there 
has  also  been  growth  in  the  material  prosperity 
of  the  churches,  in  the  character  of  the  buildings, 
in  financial  equipment,  in  facility  for  service. 

Along  with  all  this,  there  has  been  an  analogous 
growth  in  education.  On  the  people  themselves 
has  been  thrown  the  whole  responsibility  for  the 
education  of  the  nation,  and  they  have  responded. 
At  first,  public  schools  existed  practically  only  in 
the  New  England  states ;  now,  there  is  not  a  state 
or  territory  in  the  Union  without  its  public  school 
system;  at  first,  no  school  system  whatever  for 
negroes  or  Indians ;  now,  education  is  provided  and 
open  to  nearly  all  negroes  and  all  Indians.  Nor 
has  this  education  consisted  solely  of  the  simpler 
elements  of  learning.  In  my  boyhood  the  youth 
who  wished  to  get  the  higher  education  must  go  to 
England  or  Germany  or  France.  There  are  still 
two  or  three  specialties  which  he  can  acquire  better 
abroad,  but  with  these  exceptions  he  can  do  post- 
graduate work  as  well  in  America  as  anywhere  in 
the  world,  if  not  better.  While  our  educational 
institutions  have  been  multiplied,  they  have  both 
grown  broader  and  grown  upward. 

There  are  certain  elements  of  life  which  cannot 
be  summed  up  in  statistics.  What  has  been  the 
moral  product  of  this  democracy?  what  the  moral 
accompaniment  of  this  growth  in  territory,  in  pop- 
ulation, in  wealth,  in  religious  and  educational 
equipment?    The  moral  power  of  America  is  cer- 


212  THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


tainly  not  inferior  to  that  of  any  other  nation.  The 
love  of  country  never  was  subjected  to  a  severer 
test  than  it  was  in  America  during  the  civil  war. 
What  patriotism  means  to  democracy,  what  love 
of  country  means,  what  the  love  of  man  for  his 
fellow -man,  what  the  love  of  man  for  the  institu- 
tions that  represent  or  appear  to  him  to  represent 
liberty,  justice,  equality,  the  graves  of  our  soldiers 
and  the  monuments  in  every  town  and  village  bear 
witness. 

It  is  the  conscience  of  America  which  abolished 
slavery.  It  is  the  conscience  of  America  which 
has  diminished  drunkenness  and  put  a  curb -bit  in 
the  mouth  of  the  liquor  traffic.  It  is  the  con- 
science of  America  which  has  wrought  the  indus- 
trial reforms  which  have  already  been  accom- 
plished. It  is  the  humane  conscience  of  America 
which  has  built  up  hospitals  and  asylums  and 
libraries,  some  founded  and  maintained  by  the 
state  or  the  city,  some  by  the  benevolent  enterprise 
of  individuals. 

Whatever  else  may  be  said  of  Americans,  they 
are  not  mean  or  narrow  or  niggardly.  They  may 
be  selfish,  they  may  be  grasping,  but  they  do  not 
hoard.  They  may  be  provincial,  but  they  are 
not  narrow.  Democracy  has  made  a  nation  of 
broad  and  generous  men. 

We  are  to  remember,  too,  what  has  been  the 
spiritual  and  ethical  development. of  the  churches. 
Their  growth  in  numbers,  in  equipment,  has  not 
been  their  only  growth.    Within  this  century  the 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  213 


city  mission  movement,  the  home  mission  move- 
ment, the  foreign  mission  movement,  have  all  been 
organized.  They  are  products  of  democracy  in 
religion.  The  churches  are  no  longer  merely  wor- 
shiping places,  nor  places  where  people  gather  for 
aesthetic  enjoyment,  nor  where  their  piety  is  kept 
alive  by  the  assiduous  calls  of  a  busy  pastor. 
The  church  has  become,  in  Parkhurst's  phrase,  ^ 
the  pastor's  force,  not  his  field.  Every  church 
that  is  worthy  of  the  name  in  America  is  to-day  a 
working  church.  Democracy  has  made  working  ^ 
churches,  because  democracy  has  thrown  the  re- 
sponsibility of  the  religious  institution  on  the  indi- 
vidual member.  And  out  from  these  churches  have 
gone  forth  spiritual  forces,  reaching  far  beyond 
ecclesiastical  walls,  — the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Associations,  the  Young  Women's  Christian  Asso- 
ciations, .the  Societies  of  Christian  Endeavor,  the 
King's  Daughters,  and  cognate  organizations. 

This  is  what  has  been  wrought  in  America  by 
a  century  of  faith  in  man,  hope  for  man,  good 
will  toward  man.  A  land  wide  in  extent,  rich  in 
population,  growing  in  wealth  and  in  the  diffusion 
of  wealth,  in  education  and  in  the  diffusion  of 
education,  growing  in  religious  institutions  and  in 
the  power  of  an  awakened  conscience  and  an  awak- 
ened spirit  of  faith  and  hope  and  love.  The  dis-  ^ 
tinguishing  spirit  of  America  is  this  spirit  of  faith 
in  man,  hope  for  man,  and  good  will  toward  man. 
This  is  its  history,  this  is  its  vital  constitution, 
this  is  its  essential  nature. 


214 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


There  are  those  who  think,  or  seem  to  think, 
that  suddenly  this  nation  has  thrown  away  its  birth- 
right, has  forgotten  its  faith  in  man,  has  lost  its 
hope  for  man,  has  ceased  to  have  good  will  toward 
man,  and  that  now,  at  the  close  of  the  century,  it 
has  suddenly  become  dominated  by  an  imperial 
and  imperious  ambition.  Some  of  these  are  men 
for  whose  views  I  have  great  respect,  whose  intel- 
lectual conclusions  Americans  ought  to  weigh  with 
candor  and  with  consideration;  but  I  cannot  be- 
V  lieve  that  a  nation  is  either  converted  or  perverted 
in  a  day.  I  cannot  believe  that  a  great  nation, 
founded  on  faith  in  man  and  hope  for  man  and 
good  will  toward  man,  —  a  nation  which  has  shown 
its  faith  in  man  by  its  institutions,  and  by  its  his- 
tory, has  suddenly  broken  with  all  the  traditions 
of  the  past,  lost  all  the  spirit  of  its  youth  and  early 
manhood,  and  has  been  instantaneously  converted 
from  a  great  example  of  faith  and  hope  and  good 
will  toward  man  into  an  imperial  Kepublic.  The 
spirit  which  has  emancipated  the  negro,  which  has 
opened  all  the  lands  to  the  immigrant,  which  has 
founded  the  public  school  and  taxed  the  state  for 
the  education  of  the  common  people,  this  spirit 
is  not  lost.  We  may  differ  among  ourselves  as 
to  the  facts,  and  as  to  the  application  of  funda- 
mental principles  to  those  facts;  some  of  us  may 
be  too  eager  to  enter  upon  untried  paths  in  the 
future,  and  some  of  us  too  reluctant;  some  of  us 
may  be  glad  that  new  days  bring  new  duties  and 
be  too  ready  to  assume  them;  some  of  us  may  be 


THE  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY  215 


sorry  that  new  days  bring  new  duties  and  wish 
only  to  fulfill  the  duties  of  our  fathers;  but  the 
great  heart  of  America  is  a  heart  of  faith  in  hu- 
manity, of  hope  for  humanity,  of  good  will  toward 
humanity.  The  American  people  are  true  to  their 
past  traditions,  their  present  institutions,  their  real 
life.  We  shall  go  on  with  this  experiment  we  are 
making,  of  trust  in  the  people,  hope  for  the  people, 
and  good  will  to  the  people,  until  we  have  carried 
it  out  to  its  final  and  uttermost  end.  How  this 
spirit  is  to  be  applied,  how  these  principles  are  to 
be  interpreted  in  their  application  to  the  solution 
of  the  problems  of  the  future,  both  foreign  and 
domestic,  will  be  the  subject  for  consideration  in 
the  next  two  of  these  lectures. 


LECTURE  VIII 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PEOBLEMS 

In  preceding  lectures  I  have  expounded  certain 
fundamental  political  principles,  which  in  the  suc- 
ceeding lectures  of  this  course  I  shall  assume  to  be 
true.  These  principles  may  be  thus  rehearsed: 
The  object  of  government  is  the  protection  of  per- 
son, property,  reputation,  family,  and  liberty  —  by 
which  last  I  mean  the  right  of  every  individual 
to  use  his  person  and  his  property  as  he  pleases, 
so  long  as  he  does  not  violate  the  rights  or  impair 
the  welfare  of  his  fellow-men.  All  just  govern- 
ments exist  for  the  benefit  of  those  that  are  gov- 
erned—  that  is,  they  exist  in  equal  measure  for 
the  protection  of  all  these  rights  in  all  men,  not 
for  the  protection  of  the  rights  of  special  classes 
more  than  others.  That  is  the  best  government, 
whatever  its  form,  which  best  protects  person,  pro- 
perty, reputation,  family,  and  liberty.  The  ulti- 
mate government  is  self-government  —  that  is,  it 
is  that  state  of  society  in  which  the  best  in  each 
man  governs  the  worst  in  each  man,  so  that  there 
is  no  longer  the  need  that  some  better  man  outside 
of  him  shall  govern  him  and  keep  him  from  wrong- 
doing.   Therefore  the  true  government,  the  ideal 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  217 


government,  while  it  is  primarily  protecting  per- 
son, property,  family,  reputation,  and  liberty,  also 
ought  to  be  so  administered  as  to  develop  in  man 
a  capacity  for  self-government,  and  thus  bring 
about  that  state  of  society  in  which  every  man 
shall  govern  himself,  and  there  shall  be  no  need  of 
external  government  over  him. 

This  development  of  character  is  accomplished, 
not  only  by  systems  of  education  established  and 
maintained  by  the  state,  as  such  systems  are  main- 
tained by  all  free  states  in  the  measure  in  which  they 
become  free ;  but  it  is  also  accomplished  by  throw- 
ing on  the  people  of  each  particular  community 
the  largest  measure  of  responsibility  which  they 
are  able  to  bear,  consistently  with  the  protection 
of  person,  property,  reputation,  and  family.  But 
if  greater  responsibility  is  thrown  upon  the  people 
than  they  are  able  to  bear,  if  they  are  not  compe- 
tent to  protect  the  inherent  and  inalienable  rights 
of  the  individual,  then  the  government  is  a  bad 
government,  no  matter  who  shares  in  it,  no  matter 
what  its  form.  For  the  fundamental  nature  of 
government  and  its  sole  justification  is  that  it  is 
a  mutual  protection  society,  organized  for  the  pre- 
servation of  human  rights.  If  it  does  not  pre- 
serve the  rights  of  the  individual,  it  is  a  bad  gov- 
ernment ;  if  it  does  protect  his  rights,  it  is  a  good 
government;  if  it  so  preserves  human  rights  as  to 
develop  in  the  governed  people  the  power  to  gov- 
ern themselves,  it  is  the  best  government.  I  wish 
in  this  lecture  to  apply  these  fundamental  princi- 


218 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


pies  to  certain  political  problems  that  confront  us : 
they  are  five  in  number,  —  the  Indian  question ; 
the  negro  question;  the  woman  suffrage  question; 
the  question  of  the  relation  of  the  political  ma- 
chine to  human  liberty  in  a  democratic  government ; 
and  the  question  of  the  rights  of  the  majority  over 
the  minority  in  a  free  community.  This  is  a  large 
theme;  it  can  be  treated  only  in  outline. 

I.  When  our  fathers  landed  in  this  country, 
they  found  something  like  half  a  million  savages 
roaming  over  it,  who  lived  on  the  continent,  but 
did  not  truly  occupy  the  continent.  They  hunted 
in  the  woods,  but  felled  no  timber;  fished  in  the 
streams,  but  made  no  mills;  roamed  over  the 
prairies,  but  got  out  of  them  no  wheat  or  corn  of 
any  consequence ;  roamed  over  the  hills,  but  found 
not  the  gold,  the  silver,  the  copper,  or  the  coal. 
They  merely  played  on  the  surface  of  the  conti- 
nent. Our  fathers  landed,  took  possession  of  a 
little  strip  of  land  along  the  Atlantic  coast,  and 
began  to  grow  —  by  natural  increase  and  by  immi- 
gration. At  first  it  was  a  serious  question  whether 
the  whites  or  the  Indians  would  possess  this  con- 
tinent. But  the  white  race  grew  and  the  white 
civilization  developed,  and  the  Indians  neither 
increased  in  numbers  nor  improved  in  capacity. 
Wars  ensued;  sometimes  the  Indian  was  the  ag- 
gressor, sometimes  the  white  man ;  but  the  Indian 
was  always,  sooner  or  later,  defeated.  At  the  end 
of  every  war  was  a  treaty;  a  new  boundary  line 
was  laid  down;  and  the  white  man  said,  "We  will 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  219 


keep  on  this  side,  you  shall  keep  on  that."  But 
the  white  race  grew,  and  the  Indian  race  did  not 
grow,  and  the  boundary  line  was  pushed  steadily 
westward.  At  last  the  result  of  all  these  years  of 
conflict  and  struggle  was  the  reservation  of  certain 
territories  for  the  Indians,  where  they  might  hunt 
and  fish,  and  leave  the  forest  unfelled  and  the 
prairie  uncultivated,  the  hills  unmined,  and  the 
rivers  to  flow  unvexed  to  the  sea.  These  districts 
are  called  "reservations,"  because  they  are  re- 
served, not  for  Indians  merely,  not  for  barbarians 
merely,  but  for  barbarism.  Barbarians  have  rights 
which  civilized  folk  are  bound  to  respect;  but  bar- 
barism has  no  rights  which  civilization  is  bound 
to  respect.  In  the  history  of  the  human  race 
nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  civilization  must 
conquer  and  barbarism  must  be  subdued. 

When  two  forms  of  civilization  come  in  conflict, 
a  higher  and  a  lower,  one  of  three  results  inevita- 
bly ensues.  The  higher  civilization  may  destroy 
the  lower  and  extirpate  the  barbarians,  as  the 
Hebrews  did  the  Canaanites;  the  higher  civiliza- 
tion may  subjugate  the  lower  and  hold  it  under 
control,  as  we  held  the  African  race  in  this  coun- 
try, and  as  England  is  now  holding  the  Hindu 
race  in  India;  or  the  higher  civilization  may  per- 
vade the  lower,  convert  and  transform  it,  and  so 
make  it  over,  as  primitive  Christianity  did  impe- 
rial Rome.  One  of  these  three  results  is  certain 
to  ensue  —  extirpation,  subjugation,  or  transfor- 
mation.   In  this  country  we  have  tried  to  avoid 


220 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


that  inevitable,  eternal,  inflexible  law  of  God ;  we 
have  tried  so  to  fence  around  the  Indian  civiliza- 
tion (which  is  barbarism)  that  it  should  remain 
permanently  in  this  country  alongside  with  the 
higher  civilization.    And  this  cannot  be  done. 

It  cannot  be  done  because  it  ought  not  to  be  done. 
It  ought  not  to  be  possible  for  a  civilized  nation  to 
leave  in  its  territory  its  great  forests  unfelled  that 
would  make  houses,  its  great  mines  undug  that 
would  furnish  tools,  its  great  prairies  uncultivated 
that  would  furnish  food,  its  great  rivers  unharnessed 
that  would  grind  out  grists  for  civilized  people. 
It  ought  not  to  be  possible  to  put  a  fence  around  a  , 
particular  people  and  leave  them  uncivilized. 

What  is  a  reservation?  It  is  a  yard  of  a  great 
many  thousand  acres  in  extent,  with  an  imaginary 
but  very  effective  wall  built  about  it.  Within 
that  yard  barbarism  is  sacred.  The  Indian  can 
own  no  land  within  the  reservation,  and  he  can- 
not go  out  of  the  reservation  to  seek  the  benefits 
of  civilization  elsewhere.  The  railroad  comes  to 
the  border,  and  stops  there;  the  post-office,  and 
stops;  the  newspaper,  and  stops;  the  telegraph, 
and  stops.  Commerce,  trade,  the  market  —  all 
stop.  The  Indian  is  left  without  that  play  of  life 
which  makes  us  what  we  are.  For  character  is  not 
only  produced  by  those  institutions  which  are  organ- 
ized for  that  specific  purpose,  but  by  all  the  acti- 
vities of  human  life.  A  telegraph  will  teach  men 
conciseness  in  language  as  no  professor  can  teach  it. 
A  savings  bank  will  teach  thrift  as  no  preacher  in 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  221 


the  pulpit  can  teach  it.  A  railroad  in  a  community 
will  teach  promptness  as  a  church  will  not  teach 
it;  for  if  we  get  to  the  railroad  late  the  train  is 
gone,  but  if  we  get  to  the  church  late  the  sermon 
is  still  there. 

All  this  play  of  life,  that  makes  us  what  we 
are,  we  have  shut  out  from  the  reservation,  and 
then  we  have  wondered  that  the  Indian  did  not 
gi-ow!  Suppose  we  had  pursued  the  same  course 
respecting  our  immigrant  population  —  suppose  all 
the  Italians  had  been  put  in  one  reservation  by 
themselves,  all  the  Hungarians  in  another,  and  all 
the  Irish  in  a  third  —  how  long  would  they  have 
lived  in  these  reservations,  without  a  market,  with- 
out commerce,  without  industry,  and  supported  by 
rations  given  them  by  the  government,  before  they 
would  have  become  self-respecting,  self-support- 
ing, self-governing  American  citizens? 

Our  Indian  problem  is  to  be  solved  by  the  same  - 
process  by  which  we  have  solved  our  immigrant 
problem.  The  imaginary  wall  around  every  reser- 
vation ought  to  be  taken  down.  The  land  which 
has  been  held  in  trust  for  the  Indian  should  be 
given  him,  that  he  may  own  it  absolutely,  as  we 
own  ours.  He  should  be  as  free  to  seek  an  open 
market  as  any  American.  He  should  have  a  right 
to  appeal  to  the  courts  for  the  protection  of  his 
rights,  as  have  all  other  Americans,  and  he  should 
be  made  amenable  to  the  courts  for  his  violation 
of  law,  as  are  all  other  Americans.  He  should  be 
protected  in  his  right  to  go  where  he  wiU  and  do 


222 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


what  he  will,  provided  he  does  not  will  to  wrong 
his  fellow  men.  In  brief,  he  should  be  treated, 
not  as  an  Indian,  but  as  a  man  —  thrown  upon 
his  own  resources,  given  the  protection  to  person, 
property,  family,  and  reputation  which  it  is  the 
function  of  government  to  give  to  all  who  are 
subject  to  it,  and  left  at  liberty  to  use  his  person 
and  his  property  as  he  chooses,  provided  he  does 
not  so  use  it  as  to  injure  his  neighbor.  If  it  be 
said  that  he  is  a  child,  and  that  if  he  is  free  to 
sell  or  lease  his  property  it  will  be  expended  in 
drink  and  gambling  and  he  will  become  a  charge 
upon  the  community  and  his  children  will  be 
paupers,  the  answer  is  that  the  law  has  long  since 
found  an  adequate  method  of  protecting  those  who 
are  not  able  to  protect  themselves.  His  land 
should  be  treated  as  an  estate  given  to  him  and 
to  his  heirs  after  him ;  he  should  be  treated  as  a 
ward  of  the  courts;  and  his  alienation  of  his  land 
should  be  permitted  only  upon  application  to  the 
court  and  with  adequate  protection  to  his  children. 
He  is  not  to  be  condemned  to  barbarism  because 
he  is  not  yet  equal  to  the  competitions  involved  in 
civilization. 

V  Will  not  some  Indians  die  in  the  process?  Yes; 
perhaps  many.  Will  they  not  suffer  in  the  pro- 
cess? Yes;  perhaps  much.  But  God's  way  of 
making  men  and  women  is  through  suffering  and 
by  struggle,  and  there  is  no  other  way.  The  phi- 
lanthropy which  would  shield  the  Indian  from  all 
the  perils  of  civilized  life,  which  would  keep  him 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  223 


in  a  reservation  and  feed  him  there,  in  the  expec- 
tation of  fitting  him  for  civilization  before  subject- 
ing him  to  its  danger,  is  a  philanthropy  which 
imperils,  undermines,  dwarfs,  and  destroys  his 
manhood,  under  the  impression  that  it  is  protect- 
ing his  rights  and  providing  for  his  well-being. 

Something  of  the  larger  and  wiser  policy  has 
already  been  adopted.  The  nation  some  years  ago 
resolved  to  make  no  more  treaties  with  Indians. 
It  has  more  recently  abolished  the  reservation  in 
many  cases.  And  yet,  in  those  instances  where 
the  Indian  has  been  given  his  land  in  severalty 
and  set  to  take  care  of  himself,  it  has  still  left  the 
agent  to  be  his  guardian,  and  treated  him  as  a 
ward.  This  very  session  of  Congress,  in  spite  of 
the  urgent  recommendation  of  our  Indian  Com- 
missioner, has  kept  in  office  something  like  a  dozen 
or  fifteen  Indian  agents,  whose  chief  use  is  to 
draw  their  salaries  for  themselves,  and  who  inflict 
incalculable  injury  on  the  Indian  by  keeping  him 
under  pupilage  when  he  should  be  thrown  into  the 
struggle  of  life,  that  out  of  the  struggle  he  may 
come  forth  a  man. 

II.  The  race  problem  at  the  South  is  more  com- 
plicated and  more  difficult,  but  it  is  to  be  solved 
by  the  same  fundamental  principle.  At  the  end 
of  the  Civil  War  our  fathers  were  confronted  with 
a  very  difficult  problem.  What  should  they  do? 
Should  they  give  the  ballot  back  into  the  hand 
of  the  ex -slaveholder  who  had  been  in  rebellion 
against  the  national  government,  and  leave  the 


224 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


destinies  of  the  Southern  states  in  his  hands? 
This  was  perilous  to  national  interests,  and  they 
believed  it  would  be  perilous  to  the  rights  of  the 
negro  race.  There  was  current  talk  in  the  South- 
ern states  at  the  time  of  establishing  some  system 
of  serfdom  to  take  the  place  of  slavery.  Should 
they  put  the  political  power  into  the  hands  of  the 
Union  men  ?  They  were  hard  to  find ;  and  when 
they  had  been  found,  conferring  political  power 
upon  them  and  depriving  all  others  of  it  would 
have  been  to  create  an  insignificant  and  not  very 
intelligent  oligarchy.  Should  they  control  this 
conquered  territory  from  Washington  by  imperial 
administration  ?  The  nation  had  no  gifts  for  im- 
perial administration  and  no  desire  for  imperial 
administration,  and  our  fathers  justly  feared  the 
effects  on  the  nation  as  well  as  on  the  conquered 
country.  The  experiment  which  we  finally  re- 
solved to  try  was  this:  they  established  universal 
suffrage,  gave  the  political  power  equally  to  blacks 
and  whites,  ignorant  and  educated,  thrifty  and 
thriftless,  and  said  to  them,  "Take  care  of  your- 
selves." At  the  same  time  they  intimated,  through 
many  a  hot  political  debate  and  many  a  public 
utterance  in  press  and  platform,  a  profound  dis- 
trust of  the  Southern  people  in  general,  and  a 
profound  distrust  of  their  good  will  and  fair  treat- 
ment toward  the  negro  race  who  lived  among  them. 
Thus,  on  the  one  hand  they  showed  a  strange  and 
extraordinary  confidence  in  the  black  race,  and  a 
not  so  strange  but  equally  marked  distrust  of  the 
white  race. 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  225 


The  confidence  and  the  distrust  have  alike  been 
proved  erroneous.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to 
trace  here  the  results  of  the  carpet-bag  rule  in  the 
South,  growing  out  of  negro  domination.  The 
facts  are  fresh  in  the  recollection  of  most  of  us. 
The  page  is  a  dark,  even  a  terrible  one,  and  there 
is  little  inclination  on  any  of  our  parts  to  re-read 
it.  That  era  of  despotism,  of  corruption,  of  evil, 
was  introduced  and  carried  on  for  a  time.  Under 
that  government  of  ignorance,  incompetence,  and 
corruption  the  fundamental  function  of  govern- 
ment was  not  fulfilled;  persons  were  not  protected, 
property  was  not  protected,  the  family  was  not 
protected,  reputation  was  not  protected.  The  ends 
of  government  were  for  the  time  lost  sight  of;  the 
object  of  government  was  not  accomplished. 

Our  distrust  of  the  white  man  in  the  South  has 
also  been  proved  false.  He  has  shown  himself  the 
friend  of  the  slave  who  used  to  work  in  his  home 
and  on  his  farm.  We  may  well  be  proud  of  the 
nation's  record  since  the  close  of  the  Civil  War. 
A  great  stream  of  beneficence  has  flowed  from 
Northern  churches  and  Northern  philanthropists 
into  the  South  to  establish  and  maintain  schools 
for  the  negro  race.  But  it  has  been  insignificant 
in  comparison  with  the  record  which  the  South 
has  made  by  its  gifts  to  Southern  education. 
Forty  million  dollars  a  year,  Marian  L.  Dawson 
tells  us  in  the  last  number  of  the  "North  Ameri- 
can Keview,"  ^  are  spent  by  the  Southern  states 

1  For  February,  1901. 


226 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


for  education;  one  thirtietli  of  it  contributed  by 
the  negroes,  nearly  one  half  of  it  given  to  tbe 
negroes.^  We  may  search  the  pages  of  human 
history  in  vain  for  a  parallel;  a  community  of  ex- 
slaveholders,  whose  slave  system  compelled  the 
keeping  of  their  slaves  in  ignorance,  have  suddenly 
reversed  all  their  precedent  history,  and  out  of 
their  poverty  have  contributed  with  such  largeness 
of  generosity  for  the  education  of  those  whom, 
a  little  while  before,  it  was  a  penal  offense  to  in- 
struct. 

The  solution  of  the  race  problem  in  the  South 
is  a  reversal,  on  the  one  hand,  of  the  unreasonable 
confidence,  and  the  reversal,  on  the  other  hand, 
of  the  unreasonable  distrust.  It  is  a  mistake  to 
suppose  that  every  man  has  a  right  to  vote  in  any 
community.  It  is  a  still  greater  mistake  to  sup- 
pose that  a  people  who  have  never  learned  how 
to  govern  themselves  can  suddenly,  by  an  act  of 
Congress,  be  empowered  with  capacity  to  govern 
a  great  Republic.  This  was  our  mistake  —  forced 
upon  us,  indeed,  by  alternatives  that  might  have 
brought  us  into  equal  disaster  had  we  followed 
them ;  but  none  the  less  a  real  and  serious  mistake ; 
a  mistake  on  which  perhaps  I  should  not  lay  stress 
now,  were  there  not  many  who  are  urging  us  to  fall 
into  the  same  mistake  in  new  conditions  and  under 

^  Since  the  Civil  War  it  is  estimated  that  about  thirty  million 
dollars  have  been  expended  by  the  North  in  missionary  and  edu- 
cational work  among  the  negroes  of  the  South,  and  one  hundred 
and  twenty  million  dollars  have  been  raised  by  taxation  chiefly 
from  the  Southern  whites  for  the  education  of  the  negroes. 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  227 


new  circumstances.  1  We  are  now  beginning  to 
learn  that  a  people  who  had  behind  them  three  cen- 
turies of  slavery  in  the  United  States,  and  unnum- 
bered centuries  of  barbarism  in  Africa,  could  not 
become  suddenly  competent  to  take  equal  share  in 
government  with  a  race  who  had  been  educated  by 
centuries  of  struggle  in  England ,  followed  by  years 
of  equally  trying  struggle  in  the  United  States, 
who  had  written  with  their  own  hands,  by  pens 
dipped  in  their  own  blood,  the  Magna  Charta,  the 
Constitutions  of  Clarendon,  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  and  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States.  The  power  of  a  community  to  govern  itself 
depends  on  the  power  of  the  individuals  in  that 
community  to  govern  themselves.  Before  a  com- 
munity can  be  self-governing,  there  must  be  a  back- 
ground of  history  or  at  least  a  contemporaneous 
and  adequate  method  of  education. 

The  South  found  a  condition  of  society  intoler- 
able in  which  the  bottom  controlled  the  top.  So 
did  France  after  the  French  Revolution ;  so  would 
Hayti  if  there  were  any  top  to  be  controlled.  The 
South  has  endeavored  to  reverse  the  conditions 
and  put  the  top  of  society  at  the  head  of  govern- 
ment and  the  bottom  of  society  under  government. 
I  do  not  justify  the  violence  and  the  frauds  by 
which  that  has  been  attempted;  I  do  not  justify 
the  process.    But  the  South  is  right  and  deserves 

1  The  perils  of  this  mistake  are  being  illustrated,  as  this  lec- 
ture is  revised  for  the  press,  by  the  results  of  an  almost  tmquali- 
fied  suffrage  in  Hawaii. 


228 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


our  sympathy  and  our  support  in  its  supreme  de- 
sire to  have  the  intellect  and  the  conscience  rule. 
What  we  have  a  right  to  demand  of  the  South  is 
this  —  that  the  line  shall  not  be  a  color  line  or  a 
race  line,  but  a  line  of  character ;  that  an  educated 
and  cultivated  Booker  T.  Washington  shall  not  be 
turned  from  the  polls  because  his  face  is  black, 
while  an  ignorant,  incompetent,  drunken  white  man 
is  permitted  to  cast  his  vote  because  his  face  is 
white.  Our  problem  in  the  North  is  not  to  with- 
stand the  South  and  be  reluctantly  forced  back, 
little  by  little,  to  acquiesce  in  a  system  which  gives 
the  power  of  governing  to  those  who  are  compe- 
tent to  govern,  but  to  offer  the  open  hand  of  cordial 
fellowship  to  Southern  reformers,  and  say  to  them, 
We  will  help  you  in  securing  for  your  states  gov- 
ernment that  will  protect  person  and  property  and 
reputation  and  family  and  liberty.  We  have  a 
right  to  demand  that  this  shall  be  done  for  the 
negro  and  for  the  white  man ;  and,  on  the  whole,  it 
is  done.  The  person  and  property,  the  life  and 
liberty,  the  family  and  reputation,  of  the  negro  are 
in  the  main  protected  in  the  Southern  states.  If 
they  were  not,  the  results  could  not  have  been 
secured  which  are  secured.  Says  Marian  L.  Daw- 
son in  the  article  already  quoted  from :  — 

In  the  South  all  trades  are  open  to  them,  and  they 
receive  every  encouragement  to  become  proficient  in 
industrial  arts.  A  large  number  of  negroes  have  eagerly 
taken  advantage  of  these  opportunities,  and  have  made 
unprecedented  progress  in  bettering  their  condition  in 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  229 


every  way.  They  have  amassed  in  one  state  property, 
the  assessed  value  of  which  is  nearly  thirty  millions  of 
dollars,  and  it  is  estimated  that  they  own,  all  told,  about 
thi'ee  hundred  million  dollars'  worth  of  personal  and 
real  estate.  They  have  their  own  doctors,  lawyers,  and 
preachers  ;  they  have  colleges  and  universities,  and  they 
own  military  companies.^ 

A  community  in  which  it  is  possible  for  a 
race  to  accumulate,  from  a  condition  of  absolute 
poverty,  three  hundred  millions  of  dollars  of  per- 
sonal and  real  estate  is  not  a  community  which 
has  signally  failed  in  protecting  the  rights  of  per- 
son and  property.  I  know  the  tragic  story  of 
lynch  law.  Who  has  not  been  horrified  by  this 
recrudescence  of  barbarism?  But  let  us  be  just; 
it  is  not  distinctively  Southern.  When  negroes 
are  mobbed  in  Ohio  and  in  Kansas,  when  lynch 
law  is  executed  in  Indiana,  in  Colorado,  and  in 

1  The  following  statistics  have  been  made  up  from  the  Report 
of  the  Auditor  of  the  state  of  Virginia  for  1900,  and  apply  only 
to  the  country  landholdings,  not  to  town  lots  :  — 

1.  The  negroes  now  own  one  twenty-sixth  of  all  the  land  in 

Virginia. 

2.  They  own  a  little  over  one  sixteenth  of  all  the  land  in  Vir- 

ginia, east  of  the  Blue  Ridge. 

3.  They  own  about  one  tenth  of  all  the  land  in  twenty-five 

counties  in  the  state. 

4.  They  own  one  sixth  of  Middlesex  County. 

.5.  They  own  about  one  fourth  of  Hanover  County. 

6.  They  own  about  one  eighth  of  Charles  City  County. 

7.  The  negroes  acquired  land  from  1895  to  1898  at  the  rate  of 

over  fifty-two  thousand  acres  a  year. 
In  addition  it  may  be  said  that  the  landholdings  of  the  negroes 
in  the  state  have  increased  one  third  in  the  last  six  years. 


230 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Montana,  as  well  as  in  Mississippi  and  Alabama 
and  Kentucky;  when  even  the  women  become 
lynchers,  destroying  saloons  in  Kansas  with  some 
sort  of  excuse,  and  drug-stores  in  Chicago  without 
any  excuse  at  all,  let  us  recognize  the  fact  that 
lynch  law  is  not  distinctively  Southern.  We  may 
not  have  as  large  a  beam  in  our  eye  as  our  neigh- 
bor, but  it  will  be  well  to  remember  that  we  need, 
as  well  as  he,  to  submit  to  a  surgical  operation. 

It  is  true  that  the  Southerner  does  not  grant  to 
the  negro  what  we  call  social  equality.  He  does 
not  invite  him  into  his  parlor,  ask  him  to  sit  at 
his  table,  introduce  him  as  a  friend  to  his  wife  and 
children,  or  even  allow  the  children  of  the  two 
races  to  attend  the  same  school.  How  much  of 
this  is  due  to  unjust  and  unreasonable  prejudice, 
how  much  of  it  is  nature's  own  protection  against 
a  too  intimate  intermingling  of  the  races,  it  is  not 
necessary  here  to  discuss;  because  it  is  not  the 
function  of  government  to  protect  social  privileges. 
The  function  of  government  is  fulfilled  when  the 
rights  of  person,  of  j^roperty,  of  reputation,  and  of 
the  family,  and  the  liberty  that  results  therefrom, 
are  maintained.  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  purely 
social  relations.  It  is  the  right  of  each  individual 
to  choose  social  companions  for  himseK  and  for 
his  children.  Whatever  there  may  be  of  race  pre- 
judice in  the  South  is  to  be  removed,  if  removed  at 
all,  by  the  gradual,  pervasive  influence  of  teach- 
ing, not  by  the  power  of  government.  Social  pre- 
judice presents  a  moral,  not  a  political  problem. 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  231 


III.    Ought  women  to  vote? 

As  we  have  already  seen,  no  one  has  by  nature 
a  right  to  vote  in  any  government.  The  right  to 
vote  is  an  artificial  right,  created  by  the  commu- 
nity, defined,  limited,  and  determined  by  the  com- 
munity. We  talk  of  universal  suffrage,  but  we 
do  not  have  it.  In  the  last  presidential  election, 
out  of  seventy -five  million  people,  fourteen  million 
voted.  Women  do  not  vote;  nor  aliens;  nor  non- 
residents, although  they  may  be  taxed  in  the  dis- 
trict; nor  men  under  twenty-one  years  of  age. 
The  conditions  under  which  one  may  vote  are 
determined  by  the  state  in  which  he  resides,  and 
they  differ  in  different  states.  Sometimes  an  edu- 
cational qualification  is  attached,  sometimes  a  pro- 
perty qualification ;  in  the  early  colonies  a  religious 
qualification  was  sometimes  attached.  There  is 
no  natural  right  of  suffrage.  The  question  is  not, 
therefore.  Has  woman  a  right  to  vote  as  she  has 
a  right  to  the  protection  of  her  person,  her  pro- 
perty, her  family,  and  her  reputation?  The  real 
question  is  twofold :  Is  it  necessary  for  the  protec- 
tion of  her  rights  that  she  should  vote?  If  not, 
is  it  for  the  interest  of  the  community  that  the 
suffrage  should  be  multiplied  by  two? 

Democracy  does  not  demand  that  every  one 
should  vote;  it  only  demands  that  every  class 
shall  be  represented  in  the  voting.  It  is  undemo- 
cratic that  there  should  be  a  certain  portion  of  the 
community  set  apart  by  itself,  without  political 
representation  in  the  community.   Is  woman,  then, 


232 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


a  class,  so  that  she  can  be  set  apart  by  herself? 
Has  she  mterests  distinct  from  those  of  the  hus- 
band or  the  brother  or  the  father?  Are  her  rights 
to  person  and  property  violated  under  the  system 
in  which  she  is  not  a  voter?  The  simple  answer 
to  this  is  the  history  of  the  last  fifty  years,  in 
which  all  the  progress,  in  the  way  of  opening  voca- 
tions, protecting  property  rights,  enlarging  liberty 
for  women,  has  been  wrought  out  by  manhood 
suffrage.  Jeremy  Bentham  said,  many  years  ago, 
that  it  could  be  trusted  to  the  fathers  to  protect 
the  rights  of  the  children.  So  history  shows  us 
that  the  personal  and  property  rights  of  women 
can  safely  be  intrusted  to  the  rest  of  the  commu- 
nity. 

The  other  question  which  presents  itself,  at  least 
to  men,  is  this:  Shall  the  duty  of  voting  be  im- 
posed on  women?  For  thus  far  nothing  is  more 
clear  than  that  in  most  communities  the  majority 
of  women  do  not  wish  to  vote.  They  regard  it  as 
an  irksome  duty,  if  it  be  a  duty  at  all.  They  de- 
sire to  be  excused  from  it,  or  they  are  absolutely 
indifferent  to  it.  Nevertheless,  if  they  can  be  con- 
vinced that  it  is  their  duty,  no  doubt  they  would, 
with  whatever  reluctance,  assume  it.  For  it  may 
be  safely  taken  for  granted  that  if  the  women  of 
the  country  ever  conclude  that  it  is  their  duty  to 
vote,  the  men  will  give  them  the  suffrage.  The 
question  is,  then,  really  one  to  be  answered  by  the 
women  themselves.  Is  it  the  duty  of  women  to 
assume  the  responsibility  of  suffrage  in  a  free 
state  ? 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  233 


What  is  the  function  of  government?  It  is  the 
function  of  government  to  protect  person,  property, 
family,  reputation,  liberty.  The  function  of  gov- 
ernment is  protection  —  of  the  community  against 
foreign  foes,  of  the  individual  against  domestic 
wrong-doers.  The  ballot  is  not  merely  an  expres- 
sion of  judgment-,  it  is  an  expression  of  the  will. 
It  says.  Thou  shalt,  or  Thou  shalt  not.  This 
Thou  shalt  or  Thou  shalt  not  is  said  in  order  that 
society  as  a  whole  and  each  individual  in  society 
may  be  protected  in  carrying  on  the  essential  func- 
tions of  life.  Of  these  functions  the  most  impor- 
tant is  the  rearing  and  training  of  children.  Ap- 
parently it  is  for  this  preparatory  work  for  some 
other  life,  we  know  not  what,  that  we  are  put  into 
the  world.  Children  are  given  to  the  parents. 
They  grow  up  to  manhood,  marry,  and  receive  for 
training  other  children.  The  grandparents,  in 
the  order  of  nature,  remain  for  a  few  years  upon 
the  earth,  years  of  rest  after  the  life-work  is 
largely  done,  and  then  depart,  leaving  their  suc- 
cessors to  do  in  turn  what  they  have  done.  Hith- 
erto the  functions  have  been  divided  between  the 
sexes,  in  the  family,  which  is  the  first  and  funda- 
mental organism,  the  one  on  which  all  other  social 
organization  is  based.  The  father  has  been  the 
breadwinner  and  the  protector;  the  mother  has  at 
home  nurtured  and  trained  the  children.  If  now 
she  must  become  breadwinner  and  protector,  if 
she  must  support  the  home  and  protect  the  home, 
either  he  must  share  with  her  in  the  duties  of  the 


234  THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


home-stayer,  and  so  each  must  fulfill  a  double 
function,  or  she  must  double  her  duties  while 
he  adds  none  to  his.  This  is  the  answer  to  the 
question.  Ought  women  to  vote  ?  Suffrage  is  not 
woman's  natural  right,  for  suffrage  is  never  a 
natural  right.  Suffrage  is  not  woman's  necessity, 
for  her  rights  have  been  and  will  be  adequately 
protected  without  her  suffrage;  the  chivalry  of 
man  furnishes  a  better  protection  than  would  his 
submission  to  her  commands  issued  through  the 
ballot-box  —  such  submission  is  very  problemati- 
cal. Suffrage  is  not  woman's  duty,  for  it  is  not 
the  duty  of  woman  to  act  as  the  protector  of  the 
natural  rights  of  man,  and  the  ballot  is,  in  the  last 
analysis,  nothing  but  a  means  of  protection;  as 
government  is,  in  the  last  analysis,  nothing  but  a 
mutually  protective  society.  There  is  no  duty  of 
suffrage  resting  on  women,  because  it  is  not  the 
duty  of  woman  to  be  the  protector  of  person,  pro- 
perty, reputation,  family.  There  is  no  right,  be- 
cause rights  are  only  co-relative  terms  for  duties. 
There  is  no  need  to  multiply  the  suffrage  by  two ; 
it  would  be  better  to  lessen  it  rather  than  to  in- 
crease the  number  of  voters. 

IV.  What  are  the  relations  of  what  we  call  the 
political  machine  to  a  democratic  government? 

We  are  accustomed  to  say  that  we  elect,  that  is, 
choose,  our  officers ;  but  that  is  a  mistake.  Origi- 
nally the  fathers  proposed  that  we  should  elect 
a  certain  number  of  presidential  electors;  these 
electors  were  to  gather  together  at  Washington, 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  235 


or  in  their  several  states,  and  determine  who 
should  be  our  President.  We  think  we  have  abol- 
ished the  electoral  college.  No,  we  have  substi- 
tuted another  electoral  college.  No  one  supposes 
that  the  convention  that  met  at  Philadelphia 
nominated  Mr.  McKinley.  We  all  knew  that  Mr. 
McKinley  was  selected  before  the  convention  met. 
No  one  supposes  that  the  convention  which  gath- 
ered at  Kansas  City  selected  Mr.  Bryan ;  we  all 
knew  that  Mr.  Bryan  had  been  selected  before  the 
convention  met.  A  small  body  of  gentlemen, 
more  or  less  intelligent,  patriotic,  disinterested  — 
if  you  please,  the  ablest,  the  most  patriotic,  the 
most  disinterested  men  in  the  country;  for  their 
personal  or  political  character  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  method  of  nomination  —  met  together 
and  decided  that  Mr.  McKinley  was  the  man  the 
Hepublican  party  should  nominate  for  President. 
Another  small  body  of  men  similarly  selected 
Mr.  Bryan  for  the  Democratic  candidate.  The 
one  body  of  men  organized  primaries,  out  of  which 
grew  the  one  convention  which  came  together 
ready  to  shout  itself  hoarse  when  Mr.  McKinley 
was  proposed;  the  other  body  of  men  organized 
primaries,  out  of  which  grew  another  great  con- 
vention which  came  together  ready  to  shout  itseK 
hoarse  when  Mr.  Bryan  was  proposed.  Then 
the  people  went  to  the  polls;  if  a  voter  did  not 
like  Mr.  McKinley,  he  could  vote  for  Mr.  Bryan ; 
if  he  did  not  like  Mr.  Bryan,  he  could  vote  for 
Mr.  McKinley;  and  if  he  did  not  like  either  Mr. 


236 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


McKinley  or  Mr.  Bryan,  he  could  vote  for  Mr. 
Debs.  In  point  of  fact,  in  state  and  nation,  our 
officers  are  primarily  selected  for  us  by  a  small, 
self-appointed  committee,  and  the  people  at  the 
polls  exercise  a  veto  power  over  their  selection. 

This  is  partly  the  result  of  having  an  ignorant  and 
an  uninterested  voting  population.  A  great  body 
of  voters  who  either  do  not  know  or  do  not  much 
care  about  candidates,  and  do  not  know  or  do  not 
much  care  about  political  questions,  will  necessa- 
rily follow  a  leader  or  leaders,  whoever  the  leaders 
may  be,  and  will  do  whatever  the  leaders  tell  them 
to  do.  Universal  suffrage,  if  it  is  exercised  by 
men  who  are  either  ignorant  or  indifferent  respect- 
ing political  principles  and  political  duties,  neces- 
sarily means  government  by  an  irresponsible  oli- 
garchy; though  the  majority  have  this  recourse, 
that  they  can,  whenever  they  please,  turn  the  oli- 
garchy out  of  office,  when  a  new  and  sometimes 
better  oligarchy  takes  its  place.  This  is  called 
overturning  the  machine.  In  short,  the  actual  re- 
sults of  democratic  institutions  do  not  justify  the 
very  optimistic  expectations  of  Jeremy  Bentham 
as  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen  has  interpreted  them  to  us 
in  his  admirable  volumes  on  "The  English  Utili- 
tarians." 

There  are  two  primary  principles :  the  "  self-prefer- 
ence "  principle,  in  virtue  of  which  every  man  always 
desires  his  own  greatest  happiness ;  and  the  greatest 
happiness  "  principle,  in  virtue  of  which  "  the  right  and 
proper  end  "  of  government  is  the  "  greatest  happiness  to 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  237 


the  greatest  number."  The  "  actual  end  of  every  gov- 
ernment, again,  is  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  gov- 
ernors." Hence,  the  whole  problem  is  to  produce  a 
coincidence  of  the  two  ends,  by  securing  an  identity  of 
interest  between  governors  and  governed.  To  secure 
that  we  have  only  to  identify  the  two  classes,  or  to  put 
the  government  in  the  hands  of  all.  In  a  monarchy  the 
ruler  aims  at  the  interest  of  one  —  himself ;  in  a  "  limited 
monarchy  "  the  aim  is  at  the  happiness  of  the  king  and 
the  small  privileged  class  ;  in  a  democracy  the  end  is 
the  right  one  —  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number.  .  .  .  The  people  will  naturally  choose  "  morally 
apt  agents,"  and  men  who  wish  to  be  chosen  will  desire 
truly  to  become  morally  apt,"  for  they  can  only  recom- 
mend themselves  by  showing  their  desire  to  serve  the 
general  interest.  "All  experience  testifies  to  this 
theory,"  though  the  evidence  is  "  too  bulky  "  to  be  given. 
Other  proofs,  however,  may  at  once  be  rendered  super- 
fluous by  appealing  to  "  the  uninterrupted  and  most 
notorious  experience  of  the  United  States."  ^ 

There  are  three  answers  to  this  very  optimistic 
argument:  the  first  is  Senator  Clark,  of  Mon- 
tana; the  second  is  Senator  Quay,  of  Pennsyl- 
vania; the  third  is  Richard  Croker,  of  New  York. 

What  we  have  to  do  is,  in  the  first  place,  to 
diminish  the  ignorant,  the  uninterested  and  care- 
less class  of  voters ;  in  the  second  place,  to  increase 
the  power  of  the  interested  and  thoughtful  class 
of  voters.  The  first  is  to  be  accomplished,  not 
by  a  formal  educational  or  property  qualification, 

1  Leslie  Stephen  :  The  English  Utilitarians,  i.,  Jeremy  Bentham, 
pp.  284-286. 


238 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


because  the  formal  property  qualification  is  liable 
to  develop  a  class  which  cares  more  for  property 
than  it  does  for  fundamental  principles,  and  be- 
cause a  formal  educational  qualification  is  always 
liable  to  be  misused  and  misconstrued.  Make  it 
a  rule  that  a  man  must  read  the  Constitution  of 
the  United  States  in  order  to  vote,  and  the  judges 
of  elections  will  be  rigid  in  their  interpretation  of 
the  intellectual  qualifications  of  one  party,  and  lax 
in  their  interpretation  of  another.  Add  the  provi- 
sion that  he  must  also  understand  the  Constitu- 
tion, and  Democratic  judges  will  be  sure  to  think 
that  a  Republican  voter  does  not  understand,  and 
Republican  judges  will  be  sure  to  think  that  a 
Democratic  voter  does  not  understand.  What  is 
needed  is  an  automatically  working  ballot  which 
will  not  only  compel  thought  but  also  consideration 
and  interest  —  which  will  not  only  exclude  the 
ignorant,  but  also  the  careless  voter.  In  Mary- 
land to-day  there  is  a  proposal  pending  for  the  use 
of  an  Australian  ballot  without  any  party  emblems 
upon  it.i  Simply  the  names  of  the  men  to  be 
voted  for  are  upon  the  ticket.  The  man  who  can- 
not read  the  name  cannot  vote  the  ticket,  for  he 
will  not  know  for  whom  he  is  voting.  The  man 
who  does  not  care  enough  about  politics  to  inquire 
about  the  candidates  cannot  vote,  for  he  will  have 

1  This  has  been  adopted  since  this  lecture  was  given,  and  it  is 
reported  that  the  adoption  of  this  ballot  has  already  caused  the 
opening-  of  nig-ht-schools  to  teach  illiterate  voters  to  read,  that 
they  may  not  be  excluded  from  the  polls. 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  239 


no  emblem  to  guide  him.  A  ticket  so  constructed 
that  every  man  who  votes  it  must  know  who  the 
men  are  whose  names  are  on  the  ticket,  and  what 
they  represent,  would  automatically  exclude  from 
the  polls  a  large  proportion  of  those  who  are  care- 
less voters,  and  practically  all  absolutely  ignorant 
voters.  This  is  the  advantage  of  the  Australian 
ballot,  and  I  have  no  wish  to  see  it  supplemented 
by  any  such  provision  as  that  in  New  York  state, 
which  allows  to  the  man  who  declares  that  he 
cannot  read  and  write  permission  to  take  a  political 
friend  with  him  to  show  him  how  to  read  and  how 
to  mark  his  ballot. 

The  other  remedy  is  to  increase  the  power  of 
the  careful  and  interested  voters;  and  this  is  to  be 
done  by  enabling  them  to  nominate  as  well  as  to 
elect  their  officers.  This  nomination  of  officers 
is  to  be  brought  about  by  what  is  known  as  the 
direct  primary. 

It  is  idle  to  tell  busy  men  that  they  ought  to  go 
to  the  primaries :  idle  because  they  are  busy  men ; 
idle  because  politics  takes  all  the  time  they  can 
now  give  to  it  out  of  their  business  and  personal 
affairs ;  idle  because,  when  they  get  to  the  primary, 
they  find  a  slate  made  up  for  them  for  which  they 
must  vote,  or  vote  in  solitary  grandeur  against  it. 
There  may  be  exceptions,  but,  generally  speaking, 
the  primary  as  at  present  conducted  is  a  contriv- 
ance for  enabling  a  few  men  to  determine  for 
whom  the  many  may  vote. 

The  direct  primary  does  away  with  such  prima- 


240 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


ries  and  with  the  delegate  conventions  which  grow 
out  of  them.  On  certain  conditions  prescribed  by 
the  law,  any  person  may  announce  himself,  or  be 
announced,  as  a  candidate  for  any  office.  On  the 
day  of  registration  every  voter,  when  he  registers, 
drops  a  ballot  in  the  box  which  indicates  whom  he 
elects  to  be  the  candidate  of  his  party.  The  per- 
son receiving  the  greatest  number  of  Republican 
•  votes  becomes  the  Republican  candidate,  the  per- 
son receiving  the  greatest  number  of  Democratic 
votes  becomes  the  Democratic  candidate ;  the  same 
principle  applies  to  the  candidates  of  other  parties, 
including  any  who  choose  to  regard  themselves  as 
Independents.  The  best  way  to  indicate  both  the 
method  and  its  results  is  to  give  a  concrete  illus- 
tration of  its  operation  in  a  single  instance. 

"The  direct  method  of  voting  at  primaries  was 
first  adopted  by  the  Republican  party  in  this 
county  in  1897.  It  is  called  the  Crawford  County 
system,  deriving  its  name  from  the  county  first  to 
adopt  it.  Any  member  of  the  Republican  party, 
by  registering  his  name  with  the  Republican 
county  committee,  can  become  a  candidate  for  the 
nomination  for  any  office  he  may  elect.  All  the 
members  of  the  party,  on  a  day  stated,  vote,  as 
in  elections,  directly  for  the  man  of  their  choice. 
There  are  often  as  many  as  five  or  seven  candi- 
dates for  the  same  nomination.  The  ones  receiv- 
ing the  highest  number  of  votes  for  the  different 
offices  are  declared  to  be  the  nominees  of  the 
party.    Under  the  delegate  system  an  aspirant  for 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  241 


political  office  secured  the  consent  of  the  boss. 
Under  the  present  system  this  would  injure  the 
candidate's  chances  of  success.  Under  the  dele- 
gate system  the  consent  of  the  boss  was  given  in 
return  for  contributions  assessed  according  to  the 
emoluments  of  the  respective  offices.  The  money 
thus  pooled  was  used  in  buying  the  votes  of  a 
sufficient  number  of  the  delegates  to  control  the 
convention.  These  delegates  were  chosen  by 
about  one  fifth  the  entire  vote  of  the  party.  How 
vicious,  corrupt,  and  oligarchal  this  system  had  be- 
come is  illustrated  by  an  editorial  in  the  Scranton 
'  Truth  '  of  September  8,  1897,  immediately  after 
the  last  of  the  conventions,  reporting  that  the 
price  of  a  delegate  was  in  the  neighborhood  of  two 
hundred  dollars,  and  that  something  like  twenty 
thousand  dollars  had  been  spent  in  controlling  the 
convention."  ^ 

The  writer  from  whose  report  this  account  is 
taken  is  authority  for  the  statement  that  the  nomi- 
nation of  Captain  James  Moir,  as  Mayor,  by  the 
direct  primary  system  cost  him  $98.50,  and  he 
adds  that  "the  greatest  compliment  that  can  be 
paid  him  is  that  he  is  the  kind  of  a  man  who  could 
never  have  been  nominated  under  the  old  system." 
In  the  primary  election  by  which  he  was  nominated 
7000  votes  were  cast;  in  South  Carolina,  out  of 
120,000  possible  white  voters,  over  90,000  partici- 
pated in  a  direct  primary  for  Governor.  These 

1  Letter  of  Mr.  Arthur  Dunn,  of  Scranton,  Pa.,  quoted  in  The 
Otitlook  of  December  8,  1900,  pp.  861,  862. 


242 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


facts  indicate  the  three  advantages  of  the  direct 
primary:  first,  the  number  of  voters  who  partici- 
pate in  it;  second,  the  removal  of  temptation  to 
bribery  by  the  removal  of  the  necessity  for  it; 
third,  the  improvement  in  the  character  of  candi- 
dates, who  are  willing  to  accept  a  nomination  spon- 
taneously given  by  all  the  people,  but  are  not  will- 
ing to  enter  into  competition  for  a  nomination  by 
a  committee  of  professional  politicians. 

The  evils  of  democracy  are  mostly  due  to  cor- 
ruptions or  adulterations  of  democracy;  the  gen- 
eral remedy  for  the  evils  of  democracy  is  more 
democracy.  Democracy  does  not  mean  merely 
universal  suffrage;  it  means  the  universal  exer- 
cise of  judgment,  conscience,  and  common  sense 
by  every  man  in  the  community.  We  have  not 
given  a  fair  trial  to  democracy  until  every  member 
of  the  community  is  brought  to  exercise  and  act 
upon  his  own  judgment,  not  merely  to  ratify  and 
confirm  the  judgment  of  another.  A  ballot  which 
automatically  excludes  the  ignorant  and  the  indif- 
ferent voter,  and  a  direct  primary  which  enables 
all  voters  who  are  not  ignorant  and  indifferent  to 
participate  in  the  nomination  of  candidates,  will 
not  constitute  a  panacea  nor  exclude  all  corrupt  or 
inefficient  officials  from  the  Republic,  but,  by  de- 
creasing the  power  of  the  ignorant  and  the  indif- 
ferent, and  increasing  the  power  of  the  intelligent 
and  the  interested,  such  a  system  will  do  much  to 
overthrow  the  oligarchy  which  now  too  of  ten  wears 
the  democratic  mask,  and  pretends  to  be  the  ser- 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  243 


vant  while  it  is  really  the  master  or  "boss  "  of  the 
people. 

V.  What  are  the  rights  of  a  minority  in  a 
democratic  state? 

The  theory  of  paternalism  in  government  is  sim- 
ple of  statement  though  difficult  of  application. 
The  father  is  not  merely  the  guardian  of  his  chil- 
dren, he  is  their  guide,  their  superior,  their  law- 
giver, in  a  word,  their  final  authority.  To  them 
he  is  taste,  judgment,  conscience.  "Children, 
obey  your  parents  in  the  Lord,  for  this  is  right," 
says  Paul.  That  is,  this  is  the  children's  right- 
eousness. In  the  early  days  of  childhood  this 
authority  of  the  father  is  necessarily  exercised  in 
every  department  of  life  and  over  every  act.  The 
father  determines  what  shall  be  the  food  and  the 
clothing;  he  regulates  the  hours  of  sleep,  of  play, 
of  study ;  he  decides  whether  the  child  shall  go  to 
school,  to  what  school,  and  during  what  hours; 
whether  the  child  shall  go  to  church,  to  what 
church,  and  on  what  occasions.  He  takes  the 
child's  earnings,  if  he  earns  anything,  and  directs 
their  expenditure.  He  is  not  merely  a  protector 
of  the  child  from  the  wrongs  of  others,  but  is  the 
child's  supreme  arbiter  in  every  question  of  life. 
Only  gradually,  as  the  child  comes  into  the  posses- 
sion of  a  taste,  a  judgment,  and  a  conscience  of 
its  own,  is  he  set  free  from  this  supreme  and  per- 
vasive authority  of  his  father. 

In  a  paternal  government  this  principle  is  more 
or  less  consistently  applied,  whether  the  govern- 


244 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


ment  be  monarchic,  oligarchic,  or  aristocratic. 
It  is  assumed  that  one  or  a  few  men  of  superior 
wisdom  and  superior  righteousness  should  direct 
the  destinies  of  the  community  and  its  members. 
This  paternal  government  therefore  decides  what 
the  people  may  eat  and  what  they  may  wear;  it 
regulates  the  cost  and  character  of  the  garments 
permitted  to  different  classes ;  it  decides  what  their 
worship  shall  be;  it  establishes  one  church  by  law 
and  prohibits  another ;  it  fixes  the  limits  allowable 
in  education,  and  determines  what  shall  be  both 
the  minimum  and  the  maximum  for  the  pupils ;  it 
regulates  the  hours  of  industry  for  the  laborer, 
and  the  wages  which  he  may  receive;  it  leaves  in 
the  hands  of  the  common  people  barely  enough 
money  for  their  subsistence,  and  spends  the  rest, 
theoretically  for  the  benefit  of  the  entire  commu- 
nity; it  subsidizes  theatres,  pensions  authors,  pro- 
motes one  trade,  discourages  or  prohibits  another 
trade.  In  all  this  it  is  assumed  that  the  govern- 
ment has  the  superior  wisdom  of  the  father,  and 
that  the  people  are  children.  It  was  demonstrated 
in  the  French  Revolution  that  this  paternal  despot- 
ism may  be  exercised  as  despotically  by  a  majority 
in  a  nominally  democratic  community  as  by  a 
monarchy  or  an  aristocracy.  The  Jacobin  pro- 
gramme required  dealers  in  grain  to  offer  the  grain 
publicly  for  sale,  to  bring  it  every  week  to  market, 
to  keep  no  more  on  hand  than  was  needed  for  per- 
sonal subsistence,  to  sell  at  the  price  fixed  by  the 
state,  to  go  on  with  their  business  at  this  price, 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  245 


whatever  peril  of  bankruptcy  might  be  imminent 
by  reason  of  their  conformity  to  the  standard ;  and 
all  these  laws  were  enforced  by  the  death  penalty. 
In  a  similar  spirit  it  took  charge  of  the  educa- 
tion of  the  children,  determined  the  curriculum, 
required  all  teaching  to  conform  to  the  Revolu- 
tionary morality,  and  its  representative  thinkers 
affirmed  that  all  ought,  "under  the  sacred  law  of 
equality,  to  receive  the  same  clothing,  the  same 
food,  the  same  education,  the  same  attention." 
M.  Taine  has  set  forth  with  great  specification 
these  characteristics  of  the  Jacobin  programme  in 
his  work  on  the  French  He  volution. 

But  we  have  seen  that  democracy,  at  least 
American  democracy,  is  in  theory  wholly  inconsist- 
ent with  this  theory  of  paternalism.  It  assumes, 
not  that  every  sane  man  is  competent  to  take  care 
of  his  own  interests,  but  that  it  is  safer  to  intrust 
them  to  him  than  to  any  guardian.  It  similarly 
assumes  that  the  people  of  each  locality  are  better 
able  to  take  care  of  their  own  local  interests  than 
are  those  of  any  other  locality.  It  thus  denies  the 
postulate  of  paternalism  that  one  man,  or  class 
of  men,  is  possessed  of  a  superior  intelligence  or 
virtue  which  fits  him  to  provide  for  the  interests 
and  to  control  the  conduct  of  other  men  or  classes 
of  men.  There  is  some  reason  for  the  assumption 
that  a  king,  an  oligarchy,  or  an  aristocracy  espe- 
cially selected  may  be  more  competent  to  regulate 
the  affairs  of  the  mass  of  the  community  than  they 
are  to  regulate  their  own  affairs,  as  the  father  is 


246 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


more  competent  to  regulate  the  life  of  his  child 
than  the  child  is  to  regulate  his  own  life;  but 
there  is  no  reason  whatever  for  the  assumption 
that  the  majority  in  a  community  are  more  compe- 
tent to  regulate  the  affairs  of  individuals  than  the 
individuals  are  to  regulate  their  own  affairs.  The- 
oretically, an  argument  can  be  made  for  the  doc- 
trine that  a  king  should  take  the  earnings  of  his 
subjects  and  direct  them  to  the  general  good  of 
the  community;  but  no  theoretical  argument  can 
be  found  for  the  doctrine  that  the  majority  of  the 
community  should  take  the  earnings  of  the  indi- 
vidual and  direct  them  for  the  general  interests. 
Some  argument  can  be  made,  theoretically,  for 
the  doctrine  that  a  king  may  advantageously,  by 
sumptuary  law,  regulate  the  attire  or  the  food  of 
his  subjects,  but  none  theoretically  for  the  doctrine 
that  a  majority  may,  by  sumptuary  laws,  regulate 
the  food  and  attire  of  the  individual.  "Demo- 
cracy," says  M.  Taine,  "in  its  nature  and  compo- 
sition, is  a  system  in  which  the  individual  awards 
to  his  representatives  the  least  trust  and  confi- 
dence; hence  it  is  the  system  in  which  he  should 
intrust  them  with  the  least  power."  ^ 

The  history  of  the  United  States,  however, 
illustrates  the  truth  that  democracies  in  America 
have  not  always  recognized  this  principle,  still  less 
have  they  always  consistently  acted  upon  it.  The 
majority  has  frequently  assumed  the  functions  of 
a  paternal  government,  although  the  postulate  on 

1  The  French  Revolution,  iii.  p.  100. 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  247 


which  those  functions  are  assumed  by  a  paternal 
government  are  wholly  inconsistent  with  the  postu- 
late of  democracy.  Two  instances  may  serve  to 
illustrate  this  general  fact. 

At  the  present  time  (February,  1901)  a  serious 
and  energetic  effort  is  being  made  to  pass  a  sub- 
sidy bill  in  aid  of  American  commerce.  This 
subsidy  bill  would  appropriate  out  of  the  people's 
earnings  nine  millions  of  dollars  a  year,  four  fifths 
of  which  would  be  paid  to  four  great  corporations. 
If  the  expenditure  were  equally  divided  among  all 
the 'voters,  it  would  cost  each  voter  a  little  over 
sixty  cents  a  year.  Whatever  advantage  America 
might  derive  through  its  shipping  from  such  a  sub- 
sidy, it  is  evident  that  the  bill  is  founded  upon  an 
assumption  that  the  majority  can  make  better  use 
of  the  sixty  cents  of  each  taxpayer  for  his  benefit 
than  he  can  make  of  it  for  himself.  This  sixty 
cents  will  not  be  paid  to  protect  his  person,  his 
property,  his  reputation,  his  family,  or  his  liberty. 
It  will  be  paid  theoretically  to  enhance  the  gen- 
eral prosperity  of  the  community,  practically  to 
promote  activity  in  a  single  industry,  and  add  to 
the  welfare  of  the  comparatively  few  who  are  en- 
gaged in  it.  The  few  who  will  divide  the  nine 
millions  of  dollars  a  year  between  them  are  greatly 
interested  in  securing  the  passage  of  such  a  bill. 
The  many  who  will  contribute  each  a  comparatively 
insignificant  sum  toward  the  nine  millions  of  dol- 
lars a  year  are  not  greatly  interested  in  defeating 
it.    Thus,  such  legislation,  through  the  concen- 


248 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


trated  and  active  interest  of  the  few,  outweighing 
the  comparatively  insignificant  interest  and  com- 
paratively practical  indifference  of  the  many,  is 
very  apt  to  succeed  in  a  democratic  government; 
but  it  is  based  upon  the  notion  that  the  representa- 
tives of  all  the  people  are  better  able  to  judge  what 
is  the  pecuniary  interest  of  each  of  the  people  than 
each  individual  is  to  judge  for  himself.  The  sub- 
sidizing of  ships  belongs  with  a  system  which  gives 
pensions  to  authors  and  newspapers,  subsidies  to 
theatres,  tithes  to  churches  and  ministers.  It 
does  not  belong  to  a  system  in  which  the  recog- 
nized function  of  government  is  the  function  of 
protection,  and  the  political  assumption  of  the 
government  is  that  every  man  can  spend  his  money 
for  himself  better  than  government  can  spend  it 
for  him. 

The  same  problem  is  presented  by  the  attempted 
domination  over  the  conscience  of  the  individual 
by  the  conscience  of  the  majority.  My  objection 
to  prohibitory  laws  is  not  that  they  cannot  be 
enforced,  but  that  they  ought  not  to  be  enforced. 
A  local  community  may  legitimately  agree  that  it 
will  allow  no  sale  of  liquor  except  for  medicinal 
purposes  within  its  bounds.  It  may  do  this,  not 
because  even  the  local  community  has  a  right  to 
determine  that  men  shall  not  drink  alcohol,  but 
because  the  public  sale  of  alcohol  entails,  in  pov- 
erty, disorder,  and  crime,  burdens  upon  the  com- 
munity against  which  they  have  a  right  to  protect 
themselves,  as  they  have  a  right  to  protect  them- 


AMERICAN  DOMESTIC  PROBLEMS  249 


selves  against  contagious  disease.  But  the  right 
of  a  state  to  prohibit  all  sale  of  liquor  except  for 
medicinal  purposes  presents  an  entirely  different 
question.  Has  a  rural  county  in  Maine,  which 
thinks  the  saloon  is  an  injury,  a  right  to  prohibit 
the  saloon  to  the  people  of  Bangor  or  Portland, 
who  entertain  a  different  opinion?  If  so,  on  what 
is  that  right  based?  It  is  not  based  on  their 
right  to  protect  themselves,  for  drunkenness  and 
disorder  in  Portland  or  Bangor  inflicts  an  insig- 
nificant amount  of  injury  upon  the  inhabitants  of 
the  remote  rural  county.  It  must  be  based  on  the 
supposed  right  of  the  majority  to  impose  their 
conscience  on  the  minority,  to  determine  for  them 
what  is  safe  and  right,  to  act  toward  them  in  loco 
parentis ;  and  this  right  of  the  majority  to  act  in 
loco  parentis  toward  the  minority  is  fundamentally 
antagonistic  to  the  essential  principle  of  a  demo- 
cracy, which  is  founded  upon  local  seK-govern- 
ment. 

The  American  statute-books  are  full  of  illustra- 
tions of  this  attempt  by  the  majority  to  act  as 
judgment  and  conscience  for  the  minority  or  for 
the  individual.  It  is  not  always  easy  to  draw  the 
line  between  such  legislation  as  is  necessary  for 
the  protection  of  the  many  against  the  ignorance, 
the  incompetence,  or  the  wrong-doing  of  the  few, 
and  such  legislation  by  the  many  as  undertakes  to 
regulate  the  conduct  of  the  few  in  accordance  with 
their  supposed  highest  interest  or  with  supposed 
moral  laws.    But  the  principle  never  can  be  de- 


250 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


parted  from  by  a  self-governing  democracy  with- 
out peril  of  injustice,  that  the  function  of  law, 
uttered  by  authority  and  enforced  by  power,  is 
with  rare  if  any  exceptions  to  be  confined,  in  a 
democracy,  to  the  protection  of  person,  property, 
familj^,  reputation,  and  liberty;  and  whenever  the 
majority,  passing  beyond  this  boundary,  endeavor, 
from  either  pecuniary  or  conscientious  motives,  to 
regulate  the  expenditures  or  the  conduct  of  the 
minority  according  to  a  standard  of  judgment  or 
conscience  which  the  majority  have  set  up,  they 
are  acting  in  violation  of  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple that  every  man  is  to  be  left  free,  in  a  self- 
governing  community,  to  regulate  his  own  conduct, 
provided  he  does  not  impair  the  rights  or  injure 
the  well-being  of  his  neighbor. 


LECTURE  IX 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS 

In  considering  our  foreign  problems,  I  purpose 
to  apply  to  the  questions  which  confront  us*  the 
principles  which  I  have  already  elucidated  in  pre- 
vious lectures  in  this  course. 

The  earliest  state  of  man  is  that  of  independ- 
ence. He  builds  his  wigwam,  cultivates  the  soil, 
makes  the  moccasins,  fashions  the  bow  and  arrows, 
constructs  the  canoe.  He  is  carpenter,  farmer, 
shoemaker,  tailor,  armorer,  boat-builder.  The 
various  industries  are  carried  on  by  one  house- 
hold, if  not  by  one  man.  He  is  industrially  inde- 
pendent of  his  fellow  man.  As  with  the  individual, 
so  with  the  tribe :  it  is  both  politically  and  in- 
dustrially independent  of  the  neighboring  tribes. 
Peace  is  preserved  only  so  long  as  each  tribe  con- 
tinues upon  its  own  territory.  Encroachment  upon 
a  neighbor's  territory  is  a  signal  for  war.  There  is 
no  commerce;  exchange  of  industrial  products  is 
unknown.  Wars  between  the  various  tribes  either 
compel  a  union  of  tribes  in  one  nation  for  pur- 
poses of  offensive  or  defensive  warfare,  or  result 
in  the  subjugation  of  one  tribe  by  its  neighbor. 
Thus  slowly,  out  of  wars  between  independent 


252 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


communities,  a  great  world-empire  arises,  like  the 
Chaklaean,  the  Macedonian,  or  the  Roman.  But 
the  unity  of  this  great  empire  is  formal  rather 
than  real.  It  is  dependent  upon  one  central  head ; 
it  is  preserved  by  military  force.  The  community 
is  heterogeneous  in  language,  in  habits,  in  reli- 
gion, and  presently  it  drops  to  pieces,  as  the  Mace- 
donian Empire  did  after  the  death  of  Alexander 
the  Great,  as  the  Roman  Empire  did  by  a  slower 
process  of  dissolution.  The  formal  unity  has  dis- 
appeared, the  nations  are  separated  again. 

But  they  have  learned  in  this  process  something 
of  the  value  of  unity ;  and  now  a  more  real,  though 
a  less  apparent  unity  begins  to  appear.  These 
independent  nations  are  also  enemies;  they  also 
fight  with  one  another ;  but  the  end  of  the  fighting 
is  not  subjugation,  it  is  not  absorption,  it  is  agree- 
ment. They  make  treaties  with  one  another,  they 
come  into  alliances  one  with  another  —  sometimes 
offensive,  sometimes  defensive,  sometimes  purely 
commercial;  they  are  affiliated  and  federated  in 
temporary  relationships.  Commerce  —  that  is, 
the  interchange  of  industries  between  these  differ- 
ent nations  —  begins  to  appear ;  and  this  commerce 
binds  the  nations  together  in  an  invisible  unity. 
It  is  less  apparent,  but  it  is  more  real,  than  that 
which  was  due  to  conquest.  Colonization  begins. 
This  nation,  sending  out  members  from  its  centre 
into  new  and  comparatively  unoccupied  countries, 
produces  what  I  may  call  shoots  of  its  national 
tree.    Thus  a  third  step  in  the  unity  of  the  human 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  253 


race  is  taken ;  a  great  world-empire  grows  up,  like 
that  of  Great  Britain — initiated  by  force,  as  was 
the  Roman  Empire,  centred  in  one  head,  as  was 
the  Roman  Empire,  but  not  held  together  by  mili- 
tary force.  With  heterogeneous  populations,  dif- 
ferent languages,  alien  religions,  the  communities 
which  constitute  this  empire  are  yet  bound  to- 
gether by  a  real  recognition  of  mutual  interests 
and  by  some  recognition  of  a  common  purpose. 

Beyond  this  lies  a  still  further  step  toward  that 
unity  of  the  race  which  is  the  goal  of  social  pro- 
gress; independent  states  freely  combining  form 
a  permanent  federation.  They  retain  local  self- 
government  for  the  individual  state,  they  relin- 
quish to  the  united  body  the  administration  of 
their  common  interests.  Thus  a  great  world-em- 
pire grows  up,  not  by  the  subjugation  of  one  power 
by  another  power,  not  by  the  absorption  of  one 
power  by  another  power,  but  by  the  voluntary 
unity  of  various  powers  in  one  common  organism. 

All  these  phases  of  national  life  are  to  be  seen 
to-day  on  the  globe.  Tribes  independent  in- 
dustrially and  politically,  always  indifferent  and 
often  hostile  to  one  another  —  this  is  Africa.  Na- 
tions each  having  its  separate  life,  yet  entering 
into  occasional  and  temporary  alliances  with  one 
another,  recognizing  some  mutual  obligations,  de- 
veloping something  which  they  call  international 
law,  and  finally,  in  our  day,  agreeing  to  the  con- 
stitution of  a  court  to  which  their  differences  shall 
be  submitted  —  this  is  Europe.    The  subjugation 


254 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


of  foreign  nations  by  a  great  central  power,  deter- 
mined, remorseless,  irresistible,  moving  through 
the  centuries  with  unchanged  purpose,  accomplish- 
ing a  kind  of  national  unity  through  the  subjuga- 
tion of  the  inferior  by  the  superior  —  this  is  Rus- 
sia. The  evolution  of  an  empire,  with  branches 
growing  out  of  it  and  correlated  to  it  and  to  each 
other,  each  with  independent  life  yet  each  depend- 
ent on  the  central  organism.  —  this  is  Great  Brit- 
ain. Federated  states  united  in  one  national 
union,  with  a  common  judiciary,  with  a  common 
parliament,  and  yet  with  individual  local  gov- 
ernment —  this  is  the  United  States.  Except 
the  tribal  state,  all  of  them  —  Eussia,  Europe, 
Great  Britain,  the  United  States  —  mark  succes- 
sive steps  in  the  progress  toward  that  unity  of  the 
human  race  which  has  been  the  ideal  of  poets  and 
the  vision  of  dreamers  since  the  world  began  to 
think. 

For  a  considerable  time  we  in  this  country  were 
separated  from  this  unifying  process  of  the  nations 
of  the  world.  We  stood  apart  from  all  the  other 
peoples  of  the  globe.  We  were  glad  to  do  so;  it 
was  wise  that  we  should  do  so.  We  were  sepa- 
rated from  them  by  three  thousand  miles  of  ocean; 
we  were  not,  therefore,  compelled  to  enter  into 
relations  with  them.  We  had  sufficient  demand 
for  all  our  activities  in  taking  possession  of  this 
continent;  felling  the  trees,  opening  the  mines, 
clearing  the  pasture-lands,  initiating  and  organiz- 
ing our  industries.    We  had  no  time  to  engage  in 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  255 


world -problems;  we  had  no  power  to  exert  any 
influence  on  world-policies.  If  we  entered  into 
world -relations,  we  were  in  danger  of  being  en- 
tangled, enmeshed,  crushed.  "Washington  gave  us 
wise  advice  —  to  preserve  as  far  as  possible  our 
isolation.  Even  this  counsel  was  phrased  with 
characteristic  and  studied  moderation.  "It  is  our 
true  policy,"  he  said,  "to  steer  clear  of  foreign 
alliances  with  any  portion  of  the  foreign  world  — • 
so  far,  I  mean,  as  we  are  now  at  liberty  to  do  it."  ^ 
But  for  a  hundred  years  we  have  been  steadily  ^ 
drawn  into  world-relations,  and  were  unconscious 
of  the  process.  Material  civilization  was  annihi- 
lating distance;  as  with  hooks  of  steel  our  conti- 
nent was  drawn  across  the  ocean.  Whereas  in 
the  beginning  of  the  century  it  was  six  weeks  from 
New  York  to  Liverpool,  to-day  it  is  less  than  six 
days.  We  acquired  power  to  speak  so  that  we 
could  be  heard  three  thousand  miles  away.  Steam 
and  electricity  annihilated  the  barrier  of  distance, 
and  made  Liverpool  much  nearer  to  New  York  than 
in  the  days  of  our  fathers  New  York  had  been  to 
Charleston.  Physically,  we  were  brought  nearer. 
Commerce  combined  with  invention  to  destroy  our  < 
isolation. 

Europe  needed  our  agricultural  products;  we 
needed  the  products  of  French,  German,  and  Eng- 
lish industry.  We  began  to  interchange  our  pro- 
ducts one  with  another.  The  interchange  grew  in 
extent  and  complication;  we  became  in  business 

1  Washington's  Farewell  Address. 


256 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


intertwined  with  European  nations,  so  intertwined 
that  there  grew  upon  us  a  consciousness  that  we 
needed  a  common  currency,  at  least  a  common 
standard  of  values;  that  we  must  be  able  to  mea- 
sure our  commercial  products  as  England,  France, 
Germany,  measured  theirs.  As  a  people  we  had 
preferred  bimetallism;  we  had  declared  our  pre- 
ferences in  both  Republican  and  Democratic  plat- 
forms; but  when  we  had  to  decide  whether  we 
would  take  a  standard  of  value  which  we  preferred, 
or  would  accept  the  standard  of  value  which  the 
nations  of  the  earth  had  adopted,  we  decided  to 
surrender  our  preference  for  the  sake  of  interna- 
tional unity. 

Closer  bonds  knit  us  to  Europe:  immigrants 
had  come  from  the  Old  World,  leaving  their  kins- 
folk there,  and  thus  as  a  nation  we  came  to  be 
united  to  European  countries  by  innumerable  let- 
ters, and  by  all  that  those  letters  signified  —  com- 
mon hopes,  anticipations,  affections.  Love  is 
stronger  than  commerce ;  and  love  began  to  bind 
the  New  World  to  the  Old.  Not  the  English 
alone  are  our  kin  across  the  sea;  Scandinavian, 
German,  Hungarian,  Italian,  Pole  —  they  are  all 
kinsfolk  of  America.  It  is  said  that  there  are 
more  German  dialects  spoken  in  New  York  city 
than  in  any  city  in  Germany;  and  it  is  not  im- 
probable that  there  is  more  political  power  exer- 
cised by  Irishmen  in  New  York  city  than  in  any 
city  in  Ireland.  Thus,  by  kinship,  by  commerce, 
by  propinquity,  we  have  become  attached  and  our 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  257 


life  has  become  interwoven  with  the  life  of  the  Old 
World.  Meanwhile  the  Old  World  has  been 
learning  something  from  us.  The  fundamental 
republican  principle  that  government  exists  for 
the  benefit  of  the  governed  has  been  adopted  by 
European  governments  which  did  not  recognize  it 
a  hundred  years  ago.  It  is  theoretically  accepted 
to-day  as  the  basis  of  government  by  all  the  na- 
tions of  Christendom.  The  radicalism  of  the  De- 
claration of  Independence  has  become  the  com- 
monplace of  the  statesmen  of  western  Europe. 

While  this  fivefold  process  was  going  on,  we 
were  unconscious'of  it.  Men  are  generally  uncon-  / 
scious  of  their  growth.  The  boy  grows  to  man- 
hood, and  neither  he  nor  his  father  knows  that  he 
is  a  man,  until  some  sudden  exigency  arises,  some 
responsibility  is  thrown  upon  him,  some  duty  is 
unexpectedly  thrust  upon  his  shoulders,  and  — 
behold!  yesterday  he  was  a  boy,  to-day  he  is  a 
man.  We  had  heard  the  story  ^of  cruel  outrage 
across  the  sea.  We  had  read  with  hot  hearts  the 
story  of  Armenian  massacres;  we  had  wondered^ 
that  European  powers  did  not  interfere  with  the 
independence  of  Turkey  and  stop  the  cruel  wrong ; 
we  had  wondered  that  England  did  not  throw 
down  the  gauntlet  of  defiance  to  Turkey  and  take 
up  the  cause  of  oppressed  Armenia  and  come  to 
her  rescue.  We  said  so  in  the  press,  in  the 
pulpit,  on  the  public  platform,  and  in  many  a 
private  conversation.  We  can  generally  see  the 
defects  in  another  more  easily  than  in  ourselves, 


258 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  duty  before  another  more  easily  than  the  duty 
before  ourselves.  The  right,  the  duty,  of  a  strong 
nation  to  interfere  for  the  protection  of  a  weak, 
oppressed,  and  suffering  people  burned  itself  into 
the  heart  of  America,  through  the  story  of  Arme- 
nian outrages.  Then  suddenly  we  were  awakened 
to  the  fact  that  outrages  quite  as  great  were  being 
perpetrated  at  our  very  door.  A  missionary  who 
went  through  the  horrors  of  Armenia,  and  after- 
wards went  to  Cuba,  said  to  me  personally,  "  There 
was  nothing  so  bad  in  Armenia  as  the  effects  of  the 
reconcentrado  policy  in  Cuba."  We  had  learned 
in  another  school  and  concerning  another  nation 
that  no  nation  liveth  unto  itself  and  no  nation 
dieth  unto  itself ;  we  had  learned  in  another  school 
and  by  the  observation  of  another  nation  that 
there  is  a  duty  of  the  strong  to  protect  the  weak. 
When  at  last  the  blowing  up  of  the  Maine  seemed 
to  the  people  as  a  challenge  of  defiance,  they  grew 
weary  of  the  delays  of  diplomacy,  demanded  in- 
stant justice,  and  rushed,  perhaps  too  precipi- 
tately, into  war. 

The  moment  we  did  so  we  found  we  could  not 
love  the  neighbor  at  our  door  without  becom- 
ing entangled  in  European  politics.  We  were  at 
war  with  a  European  nation,  and  that  involved 
us  in  diplomatic  difficulties  with  other  European 
nations.  France  had  large  financial  interests  in 
Spain ;  we  must  avoid  war  with  France.  German 
absolutism  was  inclined  to  sympathize  with  Spain 
and  to  fear  the  growing  power  of  this  young  re- 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  259 


public;  we  must  appeal  to  popular  sentiment  in 
Germany  lest  the  imperial  authority  in  Germany 
should  be  exercised  against  us.  We  remembered 
that  Spain  was  a  Roman  Catholic  country,  and  we 
feared  —  though,  as  events  turned  out,  without 
cause  —  that  the  Pope  of  Rome  would  interfere  on 
behalf  of  Spain  and  against  the  United  States. 
We  were  entangled  in  European  diplomacy  as 
well  as  engaged  in  a  European  war;  and  we  found 
that  we  needed,  and  were  glad  to  welcome,  all  the 
moral  support,  all  the  practical  aid,  which  could 
be  secured  by  an  informal  and  unphrased  alliance 
with  our  kinsmen  across  the  sea  in  Great  Britain. 

The  war  came  to  its  end.  What  followed?  Our 
men  were  sent  abroad  to  Paris,  to  carry  on  their 
negotiations,  in  the  Old  World  with  the  Old 
World  power,  for  the  settlement  of  a  new  treaty 
between  the  old  empire  and  the  young  republic. 
Our  representatives  were  there  in  Europe,  decid- 
ing our  destiny  and  the  destiny  of  a  dependent 
people.  AVe  had  learned  from  the  voyage  of  the 
Oregon  that  we  could  not  longer  delay  the  con- 
struction of  an  interoceanic  canal  from  the  Atlan- 
tic to  the  Pacific,  and  we  must  enter  into  negotia- 
tions with  Great  Britain  to  modify  if  not  to  set 
aside  the  treaty  previously  made,  in  order  that  we 
might  have  a  free  hand  for  the  construction  of  the 
Nicaragua  Canal.  We  found  ourselves  made  re- 
sponsible by  the  fate  of  war  for  law,  for  order, 
for  the  protection  of  persons  and  property,  in  the 
Philippine  Archipelago,  on  the  other  side  of  the 


260 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


globe;  and  we  must  fulfill  that  obligation.  Al- 
most simultaneously  with  the  close  of  the  war,  a 
sudden  and  violent  outbreak  took  place  in  China ; 
our  property  was  destroyed,  our  citizens  were  put 
to  death,  and  our  national  representatives  were 
besieged  in  the  capital  of  China,  and  their  lives 
depended  on  our  intervention.  Our  diplomacy  led 
the  way,  our  soldiers  marched  side  by  side  with 
French  and  German  and  Kussian  and  Japanese 
soldiers,  for  the  relief  of  the  beleaguered  repre- 
sentatives of  the  great  nations  of  the  world  —  for 
the  punishment  of  offenders,  for  the  restoration  of 
order. 

This,  rapidly  sketched,  is  the  history  of  the 
past  four  years.  This,  rapidly  sketched,  is  the 
outcome  of  the  longer  history  of  the  past  hundred 
years.  Whether  we  like  it  or  not,  we  are  in  the 
world.  We  can  no  more  return  to  the  old  policy 
of  isolation  than  we  can  return  to  be  but  thirteen 
colonies  along  the  Atlantic  coast.  We  can  no  more 
separate  ourselves  from  the  destinies,  the  interests, 
the  life  of  Germany,  France,  Italy,  Spain,  and 
Great  Britain  than  we  can  fly  to  Mars  that  we 
may  keep  ourselves  apart  from  the  globe  on  which 
we  live.  When  the  boy  has  grown  to  be  a  man, 
he  cannot  be  thrust  back  into  the  cradle  again. 
Occasionally  the  old  man  says,  "I  wish  I  were  a 
boy  again,"  or  listens  with  romantic  pleasure  to 
the  song,  "Eock  me  to  sleep,  mother."  But  we 
are  not  boys,  and  mother  does  not  rock  us  to 
sleep.    We  are  men ;  and  when  the  boy  becomes 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  261 


a  man,  whether  he  likes  it  or  not,  he  must  face 
the  responsibilities  of  manhood,  and  with  courage 
must  enter  upon  their  fulfillment.  When  a  na- 
tion has  emerged  from  its  period  of  isolation, 
when  by  the  history  of  the  past  it  has  been  brought 
into  a  fellowship  with  other  nations,  when,  looking 
back  upon  its  hundred  years  of  history,  it  sees 
that  the  very  object  of  events,  and  of  Him  who 
rules  in  all  history,  is  to  break  down  barriers  and 
bring  all  nations  together  in  one  great  brother- 
hood, it  is  idle  to  say,  "Let  us  go  back  to  be  as 
we  were,  let  us  resume  our  isolation,  let  us  in  our 
manhood  be  governed  by  the -counsels  that  belong 
to  our  babyhood." 

If  one  ventures  to  speak  of  manifest  destiny,  he 
is  scoffed  at.  "There  is  no  destiny,"  we  are  told, 
"which  we  do  not  make  ourselves.  Our  nation 
is  what  we  compel  it  to  be."  We  are  told  that 
we  are  fatalists,  and  are  attempting  to  revive  the 
ancient  notion  of  Greece  that  life  is  determined 
by  an  irresistible  fate  outside  humanity.  If,  then, 
we  speak  of  Providence,  and  say  that  God  has 
opened  a  great  door  before  us  and  laid  upon  us 
a  great  duty,  again  we  are  scoffed  at.  "Who  are 
you,"  we  are  asked,  "that  undertake  to  interpret 
the  ways  of  Providence  to  men,  and  tell  us  glibly 
what  God  means  and  does  not  mean  ?  "  I  accept 
the  issue  thus  presented.  I  believe  heartily  and 
profoundly  in  manifest  destiny ;  heartily  and  pro- 
foundly in  a  Providence  that  directs  us  in  ways 
we  know  not  of.    The  destiny  of  no  individual  is 


262 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


determined  by  himself;  the  destiny  of  no  nation 
is  determined  by  the  aggregate  of  the  human  wills 
that  make  up  the  nation.  ' '  There  's  a  divinity  that 
shapes  our  ends,  rough  hew  them  as  we  will."  We 
live  in  history  as  we  live  upon  this  globe.  Travel 
north  or  south,  east  or  west ;  plant  corn  or  wheat 
or  what  we  will;  live  in  Europe  or  America  — 
however  we  travel,  whatever  we  do,  wherever  we 
live,  we  are  going  round  with  incredible  speed  in 
the  world's  orbit,  whether  we  will  or  whether  we 
will  not.  Our  wills  have  absolutely  nothing  to 
do  with  it.  We  can  understand,  what  changes  from 
day  to  night,  and  from  summer  to  winter,  the  revo- 
lutions of  the  globe  bring,  and  we  can  adapt  our 
actions  to  them,  but  those  changes  we  cannot  mod- 
ify. So  we  are  a  part  of  the  great  movements  of 
history ;  we  do  not  make  them ;  they  are  made  by  a 
power  greater  than  our  own ;  we  may  call  it  man- 
ifest destiny,  or  Providence,  or  God  —  call  it  what 
we  will,  it  exists.  It  is  for  us  to  understand,  to  in- 
terpret, and  to  conform  our  lives  to  its  commands. 
Christ  rebuked  the  Pharisees  because  they  did  not 
discern  the  signs  of  the  times ;  it  is  our  function  to 
study  the  signs  of  the  times,  and  understand  what 
the  Lord  God  Almighty  means  by  human  history, 
that  we  may  work  with  him  and  not  against  him, 
and  not  think  we  are  setting  the  world  back  in  its 
orbit  because  we  are  traveling  in  the  opposite 
direction  to  that  in  which  the  world  is  going. 

What  is  it  that  history  makes  clear?  What  as 
to  the  duty  of  this  nation  ?    Anything  ?    We  have 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  263 


seen  that  for  eighteen  centuries  imperialism  has 
been  decaying  and  democracy  has  been  developing; 
we  have  traced  the  twofold  progress,  of  decay  and 
of  development,  —  in  government,  industry,  educa- 
tion, and  religion ;  we  have  seen  that  what  we  call 
Anglo-Saxon  civilization  has  its  roots  in  the  He- 
braic Commonwealth  and  its  life  in  the  principle 
that  the  world  is  for  the  all,  not  for  the  few ;  we 
have  seen  that  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  have  appre- 
hended and  appreciated  this  principle  more  fully 
and  embodied  it  in  their  institutions  more  thor- 
oughly than  any  other  race;  we  have  seen  that  it 
involves  not  merely  a  national  but  an  international 
unity  as  a  preparation  for  and  a  prophecy  of  the 
brotherhood  of  the  whole  human  race;  and  we 
have  seen  that  this  international  unity,  this  com- 
bination of  union  with  that  self-government  which 
is  the  ultimate  goal  of  social  progress,  is  further 
advanced  toward  its  ideal  in  the  United  States  of 
America  than  in  any  other  form  of  world-empire. 
What  does  all  this  mean  but  that  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race  is  to  act  as  a  leader,  and  in  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race  the  United  States  of  America  is  to  take  no 
inferior  place  in  leadership,  toward  that  brother- 
hood of  man  founded  on  justice  and  liberty  which 
is  the  kingdom  of  God? 

The  duty  thus  devolving  upon  this  country  is 
emphasized  by  the  issue  that  confronts  us  in  the 
future.  The  old  struggle  has  been  between  Roman 
civilization  and  Hebraic  liberty.  The  new  strug- 
gle is  to  be  between  Slav  civilization  and  the  He- 


264 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


braic  liberty.    This  truth  has  been  so  well  put  by 

another  writer,  and  one  whom  no  one  will  accuse 
of  being  a  poet  guided  by  his  imagination,  that  I 
venture  to  read  his  interpretation  to  you. 

Of  late  it  has  dawned  upon  a  few  outreaching  minds 
that  the  one  formidable  competitor  of  the  hberty-lovinor, 
English-speaking  people  of  the  world  is  that  gigantic 
nation  of  the  North,  whose  pohtical  organization  is  still 
absolutely  autocratic,  and  whose  teeming  millions  of  in- 
habitants are,  for  the  most  part,  a  superstitious,  igno- 
rant multitude,  who  bow  to  authority  with  unquestion- 
ing submission.  The  rapidity  with  which  that  nation  is 
extending  its  territorial  possessions  and  influence  indi- 
cates that  its  statesmen  are  restrained  by  no  such  fears 
of  the  inherent  weakness  of  empire  as  have  recently 
been  voiced  within  the  United  States.  Little  by  httle 
it  is  tightening  its  grasp  upon  the  peoples  of  Eastern 
Asia  ;  and  its  purpose  stands  clearly  revealed  to  extend 
its  sovereignty  and  its  pohtical  organization  throughout 
at  least  a  gi'eat  part  of  China.  Can  any  one  look  for- 
ward to  the  consolidation  of  a  Russian-Chinese  empire 
without  serious  misgivings  as  to  the  future  of  those 
things  that  we  are  accustomed  to  regard  as  the  essentials 
of  civilization  ?  Certain  it  is  that  a  gigantic  struggle 
impends  between  that  empire  and  the  power  from  which 
we  have  derived  our  own  civihzation  and  institutions, 
and  which  to-day  is  our  truest  friend  and  strongest  ally. 
In  the  broad  sense,  there  is  from  henceforth  but  one 
real  pohtical  question  before  mankind.  That  question 
is :  Are  world  pohtics  to  be  dominated  by  EngHsh- 
speaking  people  in  the  interest  of  an  Enghsh  civihza- 
tion, with  its  principles  of  freedom,  self-government,  and 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  265 


opportunity  for  all,  or  by  the  Russian-Chinese  combina- 
tion, with  its  policy  of  exclusiveness,  and  its  tradition  of 
irresponsible  authority  ?  Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves 
with  any  notion  that  we  can  safely  stand  apart  from 
this  conflict.^ 

To  this  place  of  leadership  history  with  irresist-  / 
ible  force  propels  us;  to  this  place  of  leadership 
an  inward  force  no  less  impels  us.  America  is  a 
nation  of  pioneers.  The  first  colonists  were  pio- 
neers :  pioneers  selected  from  these  pioneers  pushed 
out  from  the  older  colonies  into  the  wilderness, 
and  led  the  way  for  others  to  follow.  Those  that 
did  follow  were  again  the  pioneers  selected  from 
the  Old  World,  who  came  across  to  make  in  the 
New  World  homes  for  themselves  and  their  chil- 
dren. They  were  men  of  hope,  expectation,  enter- 
prise, energy.  The  men  without  hope,  expecta- 
tion, enterprise,  energy,  the  men  of  dull  content 
or  more  dull  despair,  remained,  old  men  in  the 
Old  W^orld.  From  the  days  of  Columbus's  dis- 
covery of  America  to  the  present  day,  this  nation 
has  been  populated  by  the  pioneers.  Therefore  it 
is  that  this  nation  has  in  it  more  energy,  more 
enterprise,  more  expansive  power,  than  any  other 
nation  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  This  impelling 
power  from  within  combines  with  public  events 
propelling  from  without  to  urge  the  nation  for- 
ward. It  is  idle  to  tell  the  natural  leaders  of 
great  commercial  enterprises  that  they  must  not 
send  their  ships  across  the  sea,  the  masters  of 

^  Franklin  Henry  Giddings  :  Democracy  and  Empire,  pp.  288,  289. 


266  THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 

great  railroads  that  they  must  not  look  for  a  com- 
merce from  other  lands,  the  energetic  manufactur- 
ers ever  looking  for  new  worlds  to  conquer  that 
they  cannot  manufacture  for  any  people  but  Amer- 
icans, the  progressive  American  farmers  that  they 
can  raise  corn  only  for  the  neighbor  at  their  doors. 
The  world  is  ours.  We  know  it,  and  the  impell- 
ing power  from  within  and  the  currents  of  history 
from  the  past  urge  us  forward  into  world-relations. 
It  is  in  vain  to  tell  the  people  that  the  spirit  of 
enterprise  is  not  safe ;  the  American  courts  danger. 
It  is  in  vain  to  tell  them  that  Americans  are  not 
competent;  the  ready  answer  is  upon  their  lips: 
We  can  make  ourselves  competent,  and  we  will. 
We  may  fail;  but  no  fear  of  failure  will  prevent 
us  from  trying  the  experiment.  We  are  a  world- 
power;  we  are  likely  to  be  a  leader  among  the 
world-powers.  We  could  not  help  ourselves  if  we 
would ;  we  would  not  help  ourselves  if  we  could. 

What  duty  does  this  fact  lay  upon  us?  The 
duty  of  promoting  the  world's  civilization.  What, 
then,  are  the  essentials  of  civilization? 

The  first  essential  of  civilization  is  law,  con- 
formed to  justice,  uttered  with  authority,  and  en- 
forced by  power.  Without  law  and  obedience  to 
law  there  can  be  no  civilization.  This  is  the  first 
lesson  to  be  taught  the  child;  it  is  the  first  lesson 
to  be  taught  the  community.  The  babe  is  lawless ; 
even  if  he  is  what  his  mother  calls  him,  an  angel, 
still  he  is  a  lawless  angel.  The  first  lesson  he  must 
be  taught  is  that  he  is  in  subjection  to  a  stronger 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  267 


will.  The  first  duty  of  a  father  or  mother  to  the 
babe  is  to  compel  obedience  to  "Thou  shalt;  "  the 
first  function  of  the  paternal  prophet  is  to  be  a 
Moses  coming  down  from  the  mountain  with  a  Ten 
Commandments  to  the  little  child  below.  And 
what  is  true  of  the  child  is  true  of  the  child-race. 
It  must  learn  obedience.  There  is  no  road  to 
liberty  excepting  the  road  that  leads  through  obe- 
dience to  law.  There  is  no  liberty  which  is  not 
founded  on  justice,  and  no  justice  which  is  not 
formulated  and  regulated  by  law.  Law,  with 
force  behind  it  to  compel  obedience  to  it,  is  the 
sine  qua  non  of  a  civilized  condition. 

All  civilized  communities  have  passed  through 
this  tutelage  under  law.  Europe  is  a  civilized 
continent,  more  so  than  any  other  of  the  Old 
World.  Why?  Because  for  centuries  Europe 
was  under  Roman  law,  learned  how  to  obey  law, 
learned  the  sanctity  and  value  and  worth  of  law. 
Of  all  European  countries,  England  leads  in  civi- 
lization, because,  of  all  European  countries,  Eng- 
land learned  the  value  and  the  authority  of  law. 
The  Norman  Conquest,  with  a  mailed  hand,  com- 
pelled her  to  obey ;  the  Plantagenet  kings,  through 
their  judges,  with  sheriffs  to  enforce  their  decrees, 
created  throughout  England  "common  law"  — 
that  is,  a  law  common  to  all  England.  There  was 
no  such  common  law  in  France;  every  province 
had  its  own  law;  and  therefore  in  France  a  Drey- 
fus trial  is  possible  —  never  in  England.  The  first 
step  in  any  civilizing  process  is  to  bring  a  lawless, 


268 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


barbaric,  independent  people  under  the  dominion 
of  law;  all  else  rests  upon  that.  There  can  be 
neither  commerce  nor  trade  nor  manufactures,  un- 
less there  is  law  protecting  persons  and  property. 
There  cannot  be  churches  nor  schools  nor  a  free 
press  nor  free  speech,  unless  there  is  law  protecting 
persons  and  property.  Law  is  the  foundation;  all 
else  is  built  upon  it.  Law  therefore  precedes, 
necessarily  precedes,  commerce,  education,  reli- 
gion. This  is  the  divine  order :  first  comes  Sinai, 
afterwards  Bethlehem;  the  law  of  God  must  be 
promulgated,  and  a  sense  of  the  divine  authority  of 
law  must  be  wrought  into  the  consciousness  of  the 
Hebrew  race,  before  they  can  be  ready  for  the 
other  message.  Christ's  first  great  public  message 
is  a  message  of  law  —  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 
Throughout  his  ministry  he  "speaks  with  author- 
ity," and  no  man  is  allowed  to  call  himself  a 
disciple  unless  he  accepts  that  authority  with  un- 
questioning obedience.  Law  is  the  foundation  of 
Christianity,  the  foundation  of  religion,  the  foun- 
dation of  civilization. 

The  next  element  in  the  production  of  civiliza- 
tion is  trade,  commerce,  manufactures.  So  long 
as  every  man  by  his  own  handiwork  produces  all 
that  he  needs  for  himself  and  his  family,  there 
cannot  be  wealth,  nor  comfort,  nor  development 
of  character;  the  individual  is  too  busy  getting  his 
bread  out  of  the  soil;  he  has  no  opportunity  for 
the  development  of  character;  he  cannot  by  his 
independent  efforts  acquire  enough  even  to  make 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  269 


life  comfortable.  There  are  two  essentials  of  our 
industrial  civilization.  The  first  is  a  knowledge 
of  nature's  forces:  we  set  them  to  work,  and  they 
do  our  drudgery  for  us;  they  grind  our  grist,  run 
our  trains,  light  our  houses,  manufacture  our 
wares,  and  so  give  us  time  for  brain  and  heart 
development.  The  second  is  the  individualization 
of  industry;  one  man  makes  shoes,  a  second 
clothes,  a  third  books,  a  fourth  teaches  school,  and 
all  these  men  interchange  industries  one  with 
another.  This  harnessing  of  nature  to  do  our 
drudgery,  coupled  with  this  individualization  of 
industry,  it  is  which  makes  possible  civilization. 

Commerce  cannot  be  carried  anywhere  without 
carrying  some  ills  with  it.  The  larger  the  life, 
the  more  the  peril.  But  the  ills  that  commerce 
carries  with  it  are  but  the  incident.  If  we  ship 
goods  to  China,  alcoholic  liquors  may  also  be 
shipped ;  but  the  liquor-shop  is  but  a  spot  on  the 
sun.  I  hope,  indeed,  the  time  will  come  when 
Americans  will  say,  "As  we  do  not  allow  any 
saloon  to  sell  liquor  to  children,  so  we  will  allow 
no  American  to  export  liquor  to  a  child-race;" 
but  whether  we  do  or  not,  the  fundamental  fact  is 
that  commerce  is  a  life-giver.  Where  commerce 
goes,  the  life  is  larger,  the  comfort  greater,  the 
home  better.  Twenty-five  years  ago  the  wheel- 
barrow was  the  only  vehicle  in  China ;  to-day  they 
are  importing  bicycles  and  locomotives.  Twenty 
years  ago  rice  was  almost  the  only  staple  in  China ; 
to-day  we  are  sending  over  shiploads  of  wheat,  to 


270  THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


supplement  the  rice  and  fill  the  vacant  place  when 
the  rice  crop  fails.  Commerce  fills  millions  of 
mouths  where  philanthropy  feeds  but  hundreds. 
Commerce  clothes  millions  of  the  naked  where 
philanthropy  clothes  but  scores.  Men  condemn 
the  commercial  spirit  of  the  age ;  if  it  is  a  spirit  of 
greed,  of  spoliation,  it  deserves  the  condemnation ; 
but  the  commercial  spirit  is  not  necessarily  a  spirit 
of  greed  or  spoliation.  When  a  nation  subjugates 
a  province,  holds  it  under  its  control,  taxes  it,  for 
its  own  benefit,  as  Rome  taxed  Palestine  and  as 
Spain  taxed  Cuba,  it  is  highway  robbery.  When 
it  uses  its  power  to  clutch  a  poorer  nation  by  the 
throat  and  rifle  its  pockets,  it  is  a  highway  robber 
and  should  be  treated  as  one.  But  when  a  nation 
sends  its  wheat  and  corn,  its  locomotives  and  bicy- 
cles, its  sewing-machines  and  agricultural  pro- 
ducts, to  a  far-distant  country,  and  brings  back 
some  product  in  return,  it  is  doing  a  great  service. 
The  commercial  spirit  is  essentially  a  spirit  of 
mutuality  of  service;  for  commerce  is  the  inter- 
change of  one  nation's  industry  with  that  of  an- 
other, as  trade  is  the  interchange  of  one  individ- 
ual's industry  with  that  of  another. 

Let  us  have  done  with  the  idea  that  material 
progress  is  inimical  to  human  welfare,  and  that 
the  opening  of  China  and  of  Africa  is  to  be  looked 
on  with  suspicion  because  Russian,  German,  and 
American  capitalists  are  taking  advantage  of  it 
to  build  great  railroads  and  establish  steamship 
lines  as  profitable  investments.     These  are  the 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  271 


beginnings  of  international  unity,  because  these 
annihilate  distance  and  make  every  community 
neighbor  to  every  other  community. 

The  third  great  factor  is  education,  as  Mr.  Hux- 
ley defines  it :  "  The  instruction  of  the  intellect  in 
the  laws  of  nature  —  under  which  name  I  include 
not  merely  things  and  their  forces,  but  men  and 
their  ways;  and  the  fashioning  of  the  affections 
and  of  the  will  into  an  earnest  and  loving  desire 
to  move  in  harmony  with  these  laws."  When  we 
have  laid  the  foundations  for  civilization  by  law, 
established  and  maintained  by  such  force  as  is 
necessary  against  the  lawless,  we  must  pour  into 
the  uncivilized  regions  the  moral  forces  that  make 
for  civilization.  We  must  follow  the  power  that 
compels  obedience  with  the  powers  that  make  for 
life.  Where  we  have  established  the  foundations 
of  law,  there  we  must  see  that  the  free  press,  the 
free  school,  free  industry,  and  a  free  church  go  also. 
George  Kennan  writes  that  when  he  first  went  into 
Santiago,  Cuba,  there  was  not  what  could  prop- 
erly be  called  a  free  school  in  the  city  —  not  one 
that  had  a  building  properly  constructed  for  it, 
and  which  was  maintained  at  the  public  expense. 
Ecclesiastical  schools  there  were,  no  doubt.  But 
shortly  after  the  American  occupation  there  were 
seventeen  schools,  with  nineteen  hundred  pupils. 
Under  the  splendid  administration  of  General 
Wood,  America  pushed  forward  the  forces  of  civi- 
lization in  Cuba  with  the  same  courage  with  which 
the  army  pushed  the  forces  of  law  and  order  that 


272 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


laid  the  foundations  for  civilization.  An  Ensflish 
writer  has  said  that  English  missions  are  but  an 
attempt  to  convert  Hindus  into  second-class  Eng- 
lishmen. If  this  is  true  of  American  missions, 
if  by  Christian  missions  we  mean  an  attempt  to 
make  Malays  and  Hindus  and  Negroes  and  Indians 
into  second-hand  Puritans,  the  less  we  have  of 
such  missions  the  better.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
we  have  a  living  faith  in  one  God,  the  Father  of 
the  human  race,  revealed  to  us  through  Jesus 
Christ  his  Son;  if  we  have  faith  in  love  as  the 
law  of  life,  in  love  as  the  disposition  of  God,  in  love 
as  the  ideal  of  existence ;  if  Christianity  means  to 
live  and  to  love ;  if  it  means  to  do  justly,  to  love 
mercy,  and  to  walk  humbly  with  God  —  it  would 
be  the  lasting  disgrace  of  Christian  men  and 
women  if  in  this  hour,  when  the  world  is  opening 
to  us,  and  law  is  being  established  where  law  never 
was  known  before,  and  commerce,  white-winged, 
is  going  where  commerce  never  went  before, 
Christian  men  and  women  had  no  message,  or  no 
courage  to  send  their  message,  to  the  half -emanci- 
pated children  of  the  just  opened  wildernesses. 

Without  these  three  elements,  law,  commerce, 
and  education,  no  community  is  civilized  or  pros- 
perous, no  community  has  liberty  or  justice.  It 
is  the  function  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  to  con- 
fer these  gifts  of  civilization,  through  law,  com- 
merce, and  education,  on  the  uncivilized  peoples 
of  the  world.  If  we  are  to  do  this,  we  must 
begin  with  law  uttered  with  authority  and  enforced 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  273 


by  pow.er.  We  cannot  confer  law  on  a  recalci- 
trant people  without  evil ;  we  cannot  do  it,  as  men 
are  constituted,  without  some  measure  of  hardship 
and  injustice.  But  when  men  look  at  the  injus- 
tice and  the  cruelty  that  go  with  the  enforcement 
of  law,  when  they  look  at  the  incidental  evils  which 
commerce  carries  with  it,  when  they  can  see  only 
the  faults  and  the  failures  in  missionary  enter- 
prises, when,  as  a  result,  they  scoff  alike  at  the 
armed  hand,  commercial  enterprise,  and  the  mis- 
sionary and  educational  endeavor,  I  appeal  from 
their  scoffs  to  the  history  of  mankind.  Where 
the  Anglo-Saxon  race  has  gone  in  America,  in 
Australia,  in  Egypt,  in  India,  in  Africa,  persons, 
property,  family  and  reputation  are  safer  than  they 
ever  were  before.  Imagine  for  one  moment  that 
when  this  country  was  first  settled  the  English  peo- 
ple had  said,  "The  North  American  Indians  must 
have  their  own  independence ;  we  must  not  interfere 
with  it."  Imagine  that  they  had  sent  over  the 
Puritan  preacher  with  his  Bible,  and  the  Roman 
Catholic  missionary  with  his  baptism,  and  waited; 
how  long  would  the  continent  have  been  compelled 
to  wait,  if  left  without  commerce,  without  law, 
with  only  the  Puritan  minister  and  the  Jesuit  mis- 
sionary, before  it  would  have  become  the  continent 
that  it  is,  peopled  by  seventy-five  million  people, 
and  alive  with  active  industry,  its  prairies  cul- 
tivated, its  mines  opened,  its  forests  felled,  its 
streams  busy,  with  its  schools,  its  churches,  its 
homes,  its  prosperous,  industrious,  educated,  virtu- 
ous, and  happy  people? 


274 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


It  is  said  that  we  have  no  right  to  go  to  a  land 
occupied  by  a  barbaric  people  and  interfere  with 
their  life.  It  is  said  that  if  they  prefer  barbarism 
they  have  a  right  to  remain  barbarians.  I  deny 
^the  right  of  a  barbaric  people  to  retain  possession 
of  any  quarter  of  the  globe  What  I  have  already 
said  I  reaffirm:  barbarism  has  no  rights  which 
civilization  is  bound  to  respect.  Barbarians  have 
rights  which  civilized  people  are  bound  to  respect, 
but  they  have  no  right  to  their  barbarism.  A 
people  do  not  own  a  continent  because  they  roam 
through  its  forests,  travel  across  its  prairies,  and 
hunt  on  its  hillsides;  no  people  own  a  continent 
unless  they  are  using  the  continent.  The  world 
belongs  to  humanity,  not  to  the  men  that  happen 
to  be  in  one  quarter  of  the  globe.  And  the  people 
who  are  living  in  a  place  and  not  utilizing  the 
place  have  no  right  to  warn  all  other  people  off 
as  trespassers.  The  dog  has  not  a  right  to  the 
manger,  even  if  he  is  a  barbaric  dog  and  the  ox 
is  an  Anglo-Saxon  ox. 

It  is  said  that  we  Americans  have  no  capacity 
for  this  work.  If  that  were  true,  it  is  high  time 
we  acquired  the  capacity:  but  it  is  not  true;  the 
history  of  the  past  demonstrates  that  we  have  the 
capacity.  I  admit  the  truth  that  every  superior 
race,  in  dealing  with  inferior  races,  has  fallen  far 
short  of  Christ's  spirit  of  patient  service  and  long- 
suffering  sacrifice.  But  on  all  the  pages  of  human 
history  there  is  not  to  be  found  the  record  of  any 
other  nation  which  has  come  so  near  fulfilling  the 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  275 


Christ-ideal  in  dealing  with  subject  races  as  this 
American  people.  We  had  imposed  upon  us  negro 
slavery  —  not  by  our  choice,  but  by  the  authority 
and  power  of  Great  Britain,  against  colonial  pro- 
test. In  the  original  draft  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  Thomas  Jefferson  made  it  one 
ground  of  complaint  against  Great  Britain  that  she 
imposed  slavery  upon  us  despite  our  wish.  We 
sacrificed  untold  millions  of  money,  and  human 
lives  whose  value  is  beyond  all  estimate,  to  set  those 
negroes  free ;  and,  having  set  them  free,  we  have 
spent  untold  millions  of  money,  North  and  South 
combining  in  the  effort,  to  educate  and  fit  them 
for  manhood.  What  other  nation  has  done  as 
much  for  a  subject  race?  In  our  dealing  with  the 
Indians  we  have  blundered,  criminally  blundered; 
but,  in  spite  of  it  all,  we  have  saved  much  of  their 
lands  for  them,  we  have  kept  much  of  their  money 
for  them,  we  have  furnished  them  with  education, 
and  we  are  to-day  providing  for  the  education  of 
practically  every  Indian  child  of  school  age  in  the 
United  States.  If  we  had  been  willing  to  take 
their  lands  without  recompense  and  their  money 
without  justice,  the  Indian  problem  would  have 
disappeared  long  ago  —  with  the  Indian.  Only, 
our  honor  would  have  been  lost  and  our  flag  dis- 
graced. What  other  nation  in  human  history  has  , 
done  what  we  have  done  for  Cuba?  We  have 
fought  to  set  this  people  free,  and,  when  they  have 
been  set  free  by  our  benevolence,  we  have  brought 
hundreds  of  them  here  at  our  own  cost  to  give  them 


276 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


at  one  of  our  great  universities  a  glimpse  of  Amer- 
ican education,  and  then  have  sent  them  back  to 
educate  their  own  people.     What  people  have 

V  shown  more  moral  capacity  for  dealing  with  sub- 
ject peoples  than  the  American?  Turkey,  in  her 
dealings  with  the  Armenians  ?  Spain,  in  her  deal- 
ings with  the  Moors?  Italy,  in  her  treatment  of 
the  peasant  class?  France,  in  her  treatment  of  the 
Huguenots  ?  England,  in  her  treatment  of  Ireland? 
Eussia,  in  her  treatment  of  the  Jews? 

It  is  said  that  we  have  not  the  form  of  govern- 
ment which  fits  us  for  this  work.  If  that  were  true, 
we  should  change  the  form  of  government.  Forms 
of  government  are  but  tools;  let  us  adapt  our  tool 
to  our  work,  not  our  work  to  our  tool.  But  our 
government  is  admirably  adapted  for  the  work 
God  has  given  us  to  do.    For  our  work  is  not  to 

^  subjugate  a  people;  it  is  not  to  govern  a  people; 
it  is  to  develop  in  a  people,  through  law,  through 
commerce,  through  education,  through  religion, 
the  power  of  self-government.  And  no  nation  is 
better  fitted,  by  the  structure  of  its  government, 
by  the  noble  traditions  of  its  past,  by  the  splendid 
opportunities  of  the  present,  by  the  aspirations  and 
desires  of  its  prophets  and  poets,  to  take  the  lead 
in  this  great  work  of  the  world's  civilization,  and 
make  of  a  barbaric  community  first  a  law-abiding 
people,  then  an  industrious  people,  then  an  edu- 
cated people,  finally  a  self-governing  people,  than 
this  our  republic.  Our  government,  by  its  struc- 
ture and  in  its  spirit,  more  than  any  other  govern- 


AMERICAN  FOREIGN  PROBLEMS  277 


ment  embodies  the  three  essential  elements  of  true 
democracy  —  the  spirit  of  good  will  to  man,  of 
hope  for  man,  of  faith  in  man.  The  nation  which 
in  its  institutions  embodies  this  threefold  spirit  is 
preeminently  the  nation  to  rule,  to  teach,  to  in- 
spire, so  that  through  rule,  through  inspiration, 
through  teaching,  other  nations  may  become  free 
as  we  are  free. 


LECTUKE  X 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY 

The  pessimist,  who  sees  only  evil  in  the  present 
and  danger  in  the  future,  does  little  to  guard  us 
against  the  evils  of  the  present  or  to  prepare  us 
for  meeting  with  courage  and  effectiveness  the 
perils  of  the  future.  The  optimist,  who  insists 
that  we  should  look  always  at  the  bright  side  of 
things,  and  who  desires  to  close  our  eyes  to  present 
evils  and  to  future  perils,  does  quite  as  little  to 
prepare  us  to  escape  present  evil  or  to  avoid  or 
overcome  future  danger.  A  brave  man  does  not 
believe  in  looking  only  at  the  bright  side  of  things. 
He  wishes  to  look  on  all  sides  of  things ;  he  wishes 
to  know  the  evil  as  well  as  the  good,  the  peril  as 
well  as  the  promise. 

To-night  I  am  to  speak  of  some  of  the  perils 
which  threaten  democracy  in  America  —  some 
which  seem  to  me  to  be  inherent  in  the  very  or- 
ganization, structure,  and  spirit  of  democracy.  To 
those  who  at  all  know  me  it  is  hardly  necessary  to 
say  that  I  speak  of  these  evils  in  the  faith  that 
they  can  be  eradicated,  of  these  perils  in  the  faith 
that  they  can  be  avoided  or  overcome;  of  the  ele- 
ments of  moral  power  in  democracy  wliich  will 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  279 


enable  us  to  eradicate  the  evils  and  avoid  or  over- 
come the  perils,  I  shall  speak  in  the  next  lecture. 

The  fundamental  principle  of  American  demo- 
cracy is  local  self-government.  We  assume  that 
each  individual  can  take  care  of  his  own  interests 
better  than  his  neighbor  can  take  care  of  them  for 
him,  that  each  locality  can  take  care  of  its  own 
interests  better  than  the  state  can  take  care  of 
them,  and  that  each  state  can  take  care  of  its  own 
affairs  better  than  the  nation  can  take  care  of 
them.  Thus,  by  the  very  structure  of  our  politi- 
cal organization,  we  are  without  a  central  author- 
ity. There  is  no  power  at  the  head  of  the  govern- 
ment to  enforce  decisions,  except  as  those  decisions 
are  palatable  to  the  people  and  receive  their  in- 
dorsement from  the  people.  There  is  not  even 
any  symbol  of  central  power,  such  as  a  king  or 
queen.  There  is  no  symbol  that  represents  the 
continuity  of  the  nation.  All  political  power  is 
derived  from  the  people;  they  are  conscious  that 
they  have  given  that  power  to  the  so-called  author- 
ities ;  they  are  conscious  that  it  is  given  for  a  little 
time,  and  that  the  officers  to  whom  it  is  given  hold 
it  in  trust,  and  they  are  ready  to  resent  any  exer- 
cise of  that  authority  over  them  against  their  will. 
Thus,  central  political  authority  is  lacking  in  the 
nation;  that  power  on  which  the  Old  World  has 
in  times  past  depended  to  prevent  emeutes^  risings, 
revolutions,  is  either  absolutely  wanting  or  reduced 
to  a  minimum. 

Not  only,  however,  is  this  central  political  au- 


280 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


thority  wanting:  there  is  no  recognized  social  or 
literary  or  artistic  standard.  There  is  no  aristo- 
cracy, no  higher  class,  no  cultivated  few,  to  whom 
the  great  body  of  the  people  are  accustomed  to 
look  up.  An  astute  observer  once  remarked  to 
me:  "In  England  every  one  but  the  Queen  looks 
up  to  some  one  above  him,  and  every  one  but  the 
very  lowest  tramp  looks  down  to  some  one  below 
him;  but  in  America  we  neither  look  up  nor  down, 
we  only  look  off."  Thus  there  is  little  in  America 
to  develop  the  spirit  of  reverence  for  authority, 
either  within  or  without  the  realm  of  politics. 
Each  individual  is  a  standard  to  himself ;  and  the 
fact  that  all  authority  is  localized  tends  to  make 
the  people  of  each  locality  provincial  in  their  judg- 
ments, whether  political,  aesthetic,  or  literary. 

Not  only  this,  but  the  standards  of  the  past  are 
either  wholly  lacking  or  but  lightly  regarded  in 
America.  England  reveres  her  traditions;  she 
walks  in  her  old  paths;  it  is  difficult  to  get  her 
out  of  them ;  her  conservatism  in  this  respect  is 
sometimes  amusing  to  the  American.  We  do  not 
walk  in  the  old  paths,  because  we  are  not  old 
enough  to  have  any  old  paths.  We  are  a  mere 
boy  among  the  nations ;  we  have  not  yet  had  time 
to  form  habits,  and  the  restraining  influence  which 
comes  upon  a  man  or  a  nation  by  reason  of  habits 
long  formed  is  almost  wholly  wanting  in  America. 
It  would  be  wanting  even  if  we  were  all  native 
Americans,  with  a  common  past ;  but  we  are  not 
all  native  Americans,  and  we  have  not  all  a  com- 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  281 

mon  past.  A  very  large  proportion  of  our  people 
have  come  hither  from  the  Old  World,  and  have 
brought  with  them  very  differing  traditions.  Thus, 
the  traditions  of  the  German  and  of  the  Puritan 
are  widely  different,  and  to  one  the  tradition  is 
as  sacred  as  to  the  other.  We  not  only  have  but 
few  and  slight  traditions,  but  in  so  far  as  we  have 
any  they  are  varied  and  often  conflicting.  There 
are  two  statesmen  in  America  whom  all  Americans 
practically  agree  to  honor  —  George  Washington 
and  Abraham  Lincoln ;  but  it  would  be  difficult  to 
name  another.  Some  of  us  look  back  to  Hamilton 
as  the  great  statesman  of  the  Constitution ;  others 
think  that  Hamilton  was  an  impediment  to  the  pro- 
gress of  the  nation  and  bow  at  the  shrine  of  J effer- 
son.  There  is  no  continuity  and  no  steadfastness 
of  tradition  to  hold  us  to  the  past,  as  there  are  no 
standards  of  aristocratic  or  cultivated  classes  to 
hold  us  to  what  is  thought  to  be  higher,  and  no 
central  political  authority  to  enforce  decisions  over 
a  recalcitrant  multitude. 

Moreover,  the  authority  of  ecclesiastical  religion  / 
is  greatly  less  than  it  was  formerly.  Whether  this 
is  an  advantage  or  a  disadvantage  I  am  not  en- 
gaged to-night  to  consider;  but  we  must  recognize 
it  as  a  fact.  The  church  may  have  as  great  influ- 
ence as  it  ever  had,  but  it  certainly  has  not  the 
authority  it  once  had.  In  the  Puritan  churches 
no  one  supposes  that  there  is  the  ecclesiastical  au- 
thority that  there  was  in  the  days  of  our  fathers ; 
but  the  change  in  authority  is  scarcely  less  marked 


282 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


in  the  Koman  Catholic  Church.  Those  who  have 
lived  in  the  West  know  how  frequently  it  happens 
that  when  men  go  from  New  England  into  the 
West  they  leave  their  church  traditions  and  their 
church  relationship  behind  them;  but  we  are  apt 
to  forget  that  the  men  who  have  come  over  from 
the  Old  World  have  equally  been  separated  from 
their  traditions,  and  have  equally  found  their  loy- 
alty to  their  church  lessened  by  the  process.  Our 
Roman  Catholic  divines  assure  us  that  there  is  no 
such  recognition  of  the  supremacy  of  the  church 
in  the  American  Catholic  as  in  the  Italian,  the 
Spanish,  or  even  the  German  Catholic.  Many  of 
them  lament  the  lack  of  reverential  regard  for  ec- 
clesiastical authority;  certainly  that  regard  has 
been  diminished.  We  no  longer  believe  the  creeds 
of  our  churches  merely  because  our  fathers  believed 
them ;  we  make  new  creeds  to  suit  ourselves,  or  we 
dismiss  all  creeds  to  the  limbo  of  the  past,  or  we 
subscribe  to  them  with  so  many  mental  reservations 
that  the  subscription  is  practically  meaningless. 

Thus  the  four  great  restraining  authorities  of 
history  are  either  lessened  or  lacking :  the  authority 
of  a  central  power,  the  authority  of  a  social  class, 
the  authority  of  an  historical  tradition,  and  the 
authority  of  ecclesiastical  or  institutional  religion. 

Along  with  this  absence  of  restraint  have  gone 
influences  to  develop  individualism  in  extreme 
forms.  It  is  the  fundamental  postulate  of  demo- 
cracy that  the  world  and  life  are  made  for  the 
whole  human  race.    From  the  belief  that  the 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  283 

world  is  made  to  meet  the  wants  of  humanity,  it  is 
easy  to  jump  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is  intended 
to  suit  the  wishes  of  humanity.  Collective  human- 
ity, and  sometimes,  by  an  easy  transition,  the  in-  J 
dividual  man,  is  made  the  centre  around  which  all 
life  is  made  to  revolve.  Thus  there  comes  to  be 
an  apotheosis  of  humanity,  and,  growing  out  of  it, 
a  cultivation  and  intensification  of  egotism.  From 
the  doctrine.  Everything  is  made  for  us,  there 
easily  follows  the  doctrine.  Everything  is  made  for 
me.  From  the  doctrine.  Everything  is  made  to 
meet  the  needs  of  humanity,  there  easily  follows 
the  doctrine.  Everything  is  made  to  suit  the  wishes 
of  humanity.  Thus  the  wish  of  man  is  made  the 
standard  of  life.  Because  government  exists  for 
the  benefit  of  the  governed,  it  is  concluded  that 
the  government  must  be  based  on  the  consent  of 
the  governed  and  must  conform  to  their  inclina- 
tions. Because  the  world  is  made  for  humanity,  it 
is  concluded  that  all  men,  without  equally  sharing 
in  the  energy,  industry,  assiduity,  and  thrift,  must 
have  an  equal  share  in  the  wealth  of  the  com- 
munity. Because  all  men  ought  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity for  education,  the  conclusion  is  easily 
reached  that  every  man  should  take  the  education 
that  he  personally  likes,  and  that  he  should  not  be 
required  to  do  any  studying  that  is  contrary  to  his 
own  inclination.  So  the  wish  of  the  individual,  ✓ 
whether  in  government,  in  industry,  or  in  educa- 
tion, is  enthroned,  and  man  bows  down  before  a 
Great  White  Throne,  himself  sitting  upon  it. 


284 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


The  result  of  this  apotheosis  of  humanity  and 
this  discrediting  of  authority  is  seen  in  some  forms 
of  activity  that  are  praiseworthy  and  some  that 
are  not.  Because  of  these  conditions,  the  Ameri- 
can is  full  of  energy  and  full  of  hope  and  expecta- 
tion. He  has  confidence  in  himself,  confidence  in 
his  nation,  confidence  in  his  fellow  man.  This  con- 
fidence easily  becomes  an  assurance  that  we  can  do 
anything  that  any  other  people  can  do,  and  then 
that  each  individual  can  do  anything  that  any 
other  individual  can  do.  Involved  in  war,  we 
pick  out  civilians  here  and  there,  who  never  han- 
dled a  musket  or  put  on  a  sword,  and  make  them 
officers  in  command  of  our  men  in  the  field.  In 
politics,  we  take  an  utterly  untried  man  and  send 
him  to  the  House  of  Representatives  to  represent 
us,  assured  that  since  he  is  an  American,  that  is 
enough;  other  untried  men  we  send  to  act  as  our 
representatives  abroad.  One  Western  party  passed, 
not  long  ago,  a  resolution  that  they  would  have  no 
lawyers  on  the  bench;  that  is,  the  fact  that  a  man 
was  educated  in  law  was  sufficient  to  prevent  him 
from  exercising  legal  judgments  in  controversies 
between  man  and  man. 

The  lack  of  standard,  the  lack  of  authority  of 
any  kind,  —  political,  social,  ethical,  religious,  — 
coupled  with  this  intensification  of  individualism 
developing  into  egotism,  is  one  of  the  natural  re- 
sults —  perhaps  not  a  necessary  result  —  of  demo- 
cratic institutions  and  the  democratic  spirit.  But 
we  cannot  have  a  government  without  some  final 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  285 


arbiter  somewhere.  There  must  be  a  power  that 
shall  say  what  the  nation  shall  do,  what  it  shall 
not  do.  There  need  not  be  in  education,  for  we 
can  have  local  schools  with  different  methods;  nor 
in  industry,  for  we  can  there  work  out  our  individ- 
ual problems;  nor  in  religion,  for  we  can  have  a 
great  variety  of  sects  and  each  sect  may  believe 
and  do  as  it  likes ;  we  may  worship  God  according 
to  the  dictates  of  our  conscience,  or  not  at  all  if 
we  so  prefer.  But  in  government,  in  which  we 
must  act  together,  there  must  be  some  method  of 
final  decision,  some  ultimate  standard;  and  we 
have  hit  upon  this  as  a  standard  —  the  wish  of  the 
majority  of  the  voters,  representing,  on  the  whole, 
in  this  country,  fairly  well  the  wish  of  the  majority 
of  the  families  in  the  nation.  This  is  our  political 
standard,  —  our  necessary  standard,  but  necessarily 
imperfect. 

There  are  probably  no  Americans  who  believe 
avowedly  in  what  Mr.  Bryce  calls  "the  infallibility 
of  the  majority."  No  man,  looking  back  upon 
history,  can  be  of  the  opinion  that  great  masses 
of  men  always  act  correctly,  or  always  act  with 
even  approximate  wisdom  or  justice.  Remember- 
ing that  the  majority  cried,  "Set  Barabbas  free; 
crucify  Jesus  of  Nazareth,"  no  man  can  think 
that  majorities  always  decide  questions  correctly. 
Looking  back  to  a  period  not  beyond  the  memory 
of  some  of  us  still  living,  to  a  time  when  the  over- 
whelming majority  in  this  country  were  strenu- 
ously and  earnestly  opposed  to  any  agitation  of 


286 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  slavery  question,  we  cannot  think  that  the  will 
of  the  majority  of  Americans  is  always  correct  or 
always  wise.  Still,  if  we  could  always  have  the 
great  questions  which  we  have  to  pass  upon  care- 
fully debated  and  well  considered,  if  we  could 
have  the  interchange  of  mind  with  mind,  if  the 
Democrat  could  look  at  the  question  through  Ke- 
publican  eyes,  and  the  Republican  could  look  at 
the  question  through  Democratic  eyes;  if  the  ex- 
pansionist could  understand  what  the  anti-impe- 
rialist means,  and  the  anti-imperialist  could  un- 
derstand what  the  expansionist  means,  the  decision 
of  the  majority  would  generally,  if  not  uniformly, 
prove  to  be  a  very  good  method  of  reaching  con- 
clusions on  debatable  questions  in  practical  poli- 
tics. But,  with  all  our  debates  and  discussions,  I 
think  it  must  be  conceded  that  a  great  deal  of  our 
political  action  is  taken  without  any  serious  inter- 
change of  opinion,  because  without  any  real  under- 
standing of  each  other's  views.  Says  Professor 
Bryce :  — 

Those  who  know  the  United  States,  and  have  been 
struck  by  the  quantity  of  what  is  called  politics  there, 
may  think  that  this  description  underrates  the  volume 
and  energy  of  public  political  discussion.  I  admit  the 
endless  hubbub,  the  constant  elections  in  one  district  or 
another,  the  paragraphs  in  the  newspapers  as  to  the 
movements  or  relations  of  this  or  that  prominent  man, 
the  reports  of  what  is  doing  in  Congress  and  in  the 
state  legislatures,  the  decisions  of  the  Federal  Courts  in 
constitutional  questions,  the  rumors  about  new  combina- 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  287 


tions,  the  revelations  of  Ring  intrigues,  the  criticisms  on 
appointments.  It  is  nevertheless  true  that,  in  proportion 
to  the  number  of  words  spoken,  articles  printed,  tele- 
grams sent,  and  acts  performed,  less  than  is  needed  is 
done  to  form  serious  political  thought  and  bring  practical 
problems  toward  a  solution.^ 

I  venture  to  tajce  a  single  illustration,  afforded 
by  an  event  in  connection  with  this  course  of  lec- 
tures, to  illustrate  my  position.  In  one  of  this 
course  of  lectures  I  said,  "Barbarism  has  no  rights 
which  civilization  is  bound  to  respect;"  and,  that 
my  position  might  not  by  any  possibility  be  misun- 
derstood, I  added  that  this  did  not  mean  that  bar- 
barians had  no  rights  which  civilized  people  are 
bound  to  respect.  On  the  contrary,  the  right  of 
barbarians  to  justice,  liberty,  education,  and  a 
fair  share  in  the  common  wealth  is  the  right  which 
barbarism  denies  them  and  which  it  is  the  duty  of 
civilization  to  afford  them.  And  I  found  myself 
quoted  in  the  press  as  saying  that  barbarians  had 
no  rights  which  civilized  people  were  bound  to 
respect.  The  thing  which  I  had  denied  I  was  told 
I  had  affirmed.  That  a  public  speaker  should  be 
misunderstood,  misinterpreted,  misrepresented,  is 
a  matter  of  no  particular  consequence;  nor  should 
I  use  this  occasion  to  set  the  error  right.  I  use 
the  incident  simply  because  it  illustrates  the  prin- 
ciple I  want  to  expound.  When  one  man  gets  on 
horseback,  puts  his  lance  in  rest,  and  says,  "Bar- 
barians have  rights  which  civilized  men  are  bound 

1  James  Bryce  :  The  American  Commonwealth,  ii.  p.  295. 


288 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


to  respect,"  and  another  man  gets  on  horseback, 
puts  his  lance  in  rest,  and  also  says,  "Barbarians 
have  rights  which  civilized  men  are  bound  to  re- 
spect," and  they  ride  full  tilt  at  each  other,  it  is 
evident  that  nothing  is  determined  by  the  mock 
,  battle.  The  real  and  fundamental  problem, 
"What  ought  civilized  people  to  do  to  give  to 
barbarians  the  blessings  of  their  own  civiliza- 
tion?" has  not  the  slightest  light  thrown  upon  it 
by  such  misunderstandings,  such  would-be  discus- 
sions. 

The  wish  of  the  majority  is  an  imperfect  stand- 
ard even  in  politics,  though  it  is,  for  a  tolerably 
educated  people,  the  best  which  the  wit  of  man 
has  yet  devised.  But  when  it  is  universally  ac- 
cepted as  the  standard  in  politics,  it  easily  becomes 
the  standard  in  art,  literature,  and  morals;  and 
when  this  is  the  case,  it  is,  in  the  nature  of  the 
case,  impossible  that  the  standard  should  be  the 
highest.  It  will  be  higher  than  the  lowest  —  it 
will  tend  to  elevate  the  taste  of  some ;  but  it  will 
be  lower  than  the  highest  —  and  so  will  tend  to 
drag  down  the  taste  of  others.  For  the  will  or 
judgment  of  the  majority  can  never  be  the  will  or 
judgment  of  the  few  supreme  thinkers  in  the  com- 
munity. It  can  only  be  something  above  the  aver- 
age. Thus  the  tendency  of  America  is  io  create 
general  averages,  and  to  measure  all  things  by 
majorities. 

This  tendency  to  measure  all  things  by  majorities 
is  intensified  by  the  fact  that  we  live  in  a  commercial 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  289 


age.  Commercialism  is  better  than  militarism,  but 
the  commercial  age  involves  peculiar  perils  to  hu- 
man character.  When  we  begin  to  measure  suc- 
cess by  financial  results,  we  necessarily  begin  to 
measure  success  by  the  largeness  of  the  market 
reached;  and  when  we  measure  success  by  the 
largeness  of  the  market  reached,  we  necessarily 
measure  success  by  the  capacity  of  the  producer  to 
adjust  his  product  to  the  average  taste,  the  average 
intellect,  the  average  judgment,  not  to  the  highest. 

The  effect  of  this  is  seen  on  every  hand.  Pho- 
togravure gives  us  pictures  of  every  sort,  from  ex- 
cellent in  our  higher  magazines  to  execrable  in  our 
lowest  newspapers.  Every  one  has  art,  or  some- 
thing that  passes  for  art,  in  his  house  —  on  his 
parlor  table  or  on  his  walls.  But  there  is  no  in- 
centive to  create  an  Albert  Diirer;  and  if  he  ex- 
ists, he  must  fight  his  way  to  recognition  in  spite 
of  what  commerce  and  democracy  will  call  failure. 
We  have  in  chromo -lithographs  on  our  walls  very 
reputable  imitations  of  fine  pictures;  but  if  one 
desires  to  give  himself  to  art  in  America,  he  must 
make  up  his  mind,  to  begin  with,  to  struggle  long 
with  poverty,  and  perhaps  to  labor  all  his  life 
unknown,  and  leave  his  genius  to  be  discovered 
after  he  is  dead.  Our  periodicals  and  our  news- 
papers carry  literature  into  every  home;  there  is 
no  man  so  poor  that  he  cannot  have  a  good  book ; 
there  are  few  men  so  ignorant  that  they  cannot 
read.  But  the  same  influence  that  multiplies  liter- 
ature tends  to  make  it  not  of  the  highest  quality. 


290 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Our  public-school  system  has  given  us  a  great 
many  people  in  this  country  who  are  sufficiently 
educated  to  read,  but  not  sufficiently  educated  to 
think,  and  they  form  a  great  constituency  which 
supports  not  a  few  newspapers  which  can  be  read 
without  thinking.  Our  periodicals  give  stories, 
descriptions,  poetry,  well  worthy  of  our  applause; 
but  it  is  doubtful  whether  "Henry  Esmond  "  would 
have  had  any  such  circulation  as  "To  Have  and  To 
Hold,"  or  whether  any  periodical  would  ever  evoke 
"The  Eing  and  the  Book,"  from  the  brain  of  a 
Browning. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  art  and  literature  that  the 
tendency  of  our  age  is  to  lower  standards.  It  is 
preeminently  true  in  politics.  When  we  come 
together  in  a  political  convention,  our  problem  is 
not  to  determine  what  is  true,  or  right,  or  just, 
but  what  will  carry  this  doubtful  state.  We  put 
this  problem  to  ourselves  with  a  naive  frankness. 
The  convention  gathers,  the  debates  are  reported 
all  over  the  country,  and  apparently  there  is  no 
sense  of  humiliation  in  the  fact  that  the  question 
is  not,  "Is  this  proposition  true?"  but  "How  will 
it  affect  the  vote  in  New  York  or  in  Montana?" 
Sometimes  the  convention  avoids  the  question  by 
putting  the  statement  in  such  a  way  that  it  will 
carry  both  the  doubtful  states.  Thus,  not  long 
since  we  were  saying  in  some  quarters  that  we 
believed  in  tariff  for  revenue  only,  so  adjusted  as 
to  protect  all  American  industries,  and  that  we 
believed  in  bimetallism,  so  administered  as  to  give 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  291 


us  a  gold  standard.  Thus  one  tendency  of  our 
method  of  determining  political  elections  by  the 
will  of  the  majority  is  to  lower  the  standard  of 
absolute  truth  in  the  political  and  moral  realm,  a 
tendency  which  found  a  too  brutally  frank  expres- 
sion from  an  American  politician  in  the  declaration 
that  the  Ten  Commandments  and  the  Golden  Rule 
in  American  politics  are  an  "iridescent  dream." 
Nor  is  it  possible  for  one  who  studies  carefully  the 
religious  phenomena  of  this  country  to  doubt  that 
something  of  the  same  effect  is  manifest  in  our 
churches.  A  minister  is  called  to  the  pulpit  to 
"draw,"  and  he  is  measured  by  his  drawing  capa- 
city. If  he  fills  the  church  with  a  great  congre- 
gation, and  the  treasury  with  abundant  pew  rents, 
he  is  a  successful  preacher.  The  question  how 
much  he  has  filled  the  conscience  with  indignation 
against  wrong,  how  much  he  has  filled  the  life 
with  hope,  with  love,  with  loyalty,  may  be  asked, 
but  it  is  not  publicly  asked.  This  measure  of  the 
ministry  may  be  real,  but  it  is  not  apparent. 
Thus,  with  the  lessening  of  authority,  with  the 
lowering  of  standards  of  value  to  suit  an  average 
demand,  with  the  development  of  the  egotistic 
spirit  in  America,  and  with  the  acceptance  of  the 
wish  of  the  majority  as  the  rule  of  all  life,  comes 
inevitably  a  certain  element  of  commonplace  in 
democracy. 

Nor  is  this  all.  To  government  two  things  are 
necessary  —  wise  judgment,  and  power  to  enforce 
the  judgment.    For  government  is  always  the 


292 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


exercise  of  power,  either  openly  or  tacitly ;  either 
directly  exercised  or  in  the  background  ready  to 
be  exercised.  In  order  to  make  a  good  govern- 
ment, those  that  are  to  govern  must  not  only  be 
wise  to  determine,  but  strong  to  enforce  the  deter- 
mination when  it  is  reached.  And  there  is  a  ten- 
dency in  democracy,  as  in  all  great  multitudes  of 
men,  to  act  together  under  passion  and  at  fever 
heat,  and  then,  when  the  time  of  action  has  passed, 
to  forget  the  action  and  relax  into  indifference  and 
apathy. 

Several  results  follow  from  this.  In  the  first 
place,  when  on  the  one  side  are  financial  interests 
widely  divided  among  the  whole  body  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  on  the  other  side  the  concentrated  finan- 
cial interests  of  a  very  small  body  of  people,  the 
interests  of  the  great  body  are  always  liable  to  be 
set  aside  by  the  concentrated  interests  of  the  few. 
If  the  subsidy  bill  before  Congress,^  appropriating, 
in  round  numbers,  nine  million  dollars  a  year  to 
shipping,  of  which  by  far  the  greatest  amount  will 
go  to  four  great  corporations,  should  be  passed, 
each  individual  voter  will  give  on  an  average  sixty 
cents  in  taxes,  and  four  great  corporations  will  get 
nine  million  dollars.  The  individual  voter  does 
not  care  much  about  the  sixty  cents ;  by  giving  his 
attention  to  other  things  he  can  make  much  more 
than  the  sixty  cents;  but  the  four  great  corpora- 
tions are  greatly  interested  in  the  nine  million 
dollars.    Whether  the  subsidy  bill  is  right  or 

1  March,  1901. 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  293 


wrong,  expedient  or  inexpedient,  it  is  quite  evi- 
dent that  financially  the  interest  of  fourteen  mil- 
lions of  people  scattered  all  over  the  country  is 
not  or  may  not  be  an  adequate  make-weight  for 
the  concentrated  interest  of  four  or  five  men  who 
can  afford  to  give  time,  strength,  energy,  and 
money  to  carry  their  point. 

This  apathy  of  the  American  people  also  shows 
itself  on  moral  issues  in  which  financial  interests 
are  not  directly  concerned.  We  pass  a  law,  put  it 
on  the  statute-books,  and  are  satisfied  that  we  have 
done  our  duty.  But  it  is  not  enough  to  pass  a 
law;  it  is  also  necessary  to  enforce  the  law.  A 
very  striking  illustration  of  this  moral  and  politi- 
cal peril  from  unenforced  law  has  been  recently 
afforded  in  Kansas.  The  people  of  that  state 
passed  a  law  prohibiting  all  saloons;  then  sup- 
posed, apparently,  that  they  had  done  their  duty, 
and  that  the  saloons  were  banished  from  Kansas. 
But  the  saloons  were  not  banished.  We  were  told 
that  prohibition  did  prohibit  in  Kansas,  and  we 
supposed  that  it  must  be  true,  until  suddenly  the 
public  press  informed  the  country  that  a  woman 
was  going  from  town  to  town  breaking  the  mirrors 
and  the  glass  doors  of  the  saloons  that  had  been 
abolished.  The  apathetic  conscience  of  Kansas  was 
awakened,  and  the  citizens  in  one  town  assembled 
and  gave  the  saloon-keepers  a  definite  time  to  leave 
the  town,  with  notice  that  if  they  had  not  left  at 
the  allotted  time  a  vigilance  committee  would  fol- 
low the  example  which  Mrs.  Nation  had  set,  and 


294 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


would  break  the  mirrors  and  the  plate-glass  win- 
dows of  the  prohibited  saloons.  It  is  claimed  that 
it  is  better  to  enforce  the  law  by  mob  violence  than 
not  to  enforce  it  at  all;  but  it  is  not  a  pleasant 
spectacle  to  the  thoughtful  American  to  see  a  law 
on  the  statute-book  openly,  flagrantly,  and  contin- 
uously disregarded,  the  officers  of  the  law  allowing 
it  to  be  disregarded,  and  at  last  the  people  waking 
up,  and  not  holding  themselves  in  leash  and  with 
patience  waiting  until  by  legitimate  and  proper 
methods  they  can  enforce  the  law,  but  organizing 
themselves  into  a  vigilance  committee  to  do  a  work 
of  demolition  by  mob  violence.  Such  are  at  times 
the  operations  of  democracy  —  first  apathetic  and 
then  passionate,  then  apathetic  again. 
[  Thus  democracy  has  two  weaknesses:  first,  the 
weakness  of  a  standard  not  the  highest,  and,  sec- 
ond, the  weakness  of  a  will  that  is  often  not  alert. 
Out  of  these  two,  coupled  with  the  spirit  of  indi- 
vidualism, —  the  apotheosis  of  the  individual  and 
the  enthronement  of  the  individual  will,  —  grows  a 
spirit  of  lawlessness. 

This  spirit  of  lawlessness  is  seen  in  many  and 
various  manifestations:  in  the  national  habit  of 
putting  laws  upon  the  statute-book  with  a  tacit 
understanding  that  they  are  not  to  be  obeyed,  or 
with  a  quiet  disregard  of  them  in  localities  where 
the  law  is  not  popular;  in  the  common  saying, 
which  national  experience  does  much  to  confirm, 
that  law  is  no  stronger  than  the  public  opinion 
which  is  behind  it,  and  accordingly  the  law  enacted 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  295 


"by  state  authority  is  no  stronger  in  any  particular 
city  or  county  than  the  public  sentiment  in  that 
locality;  in  the  conscienceless  evasion  of  tax  laws, 
even  when  such  evasion  involves  deceit  and  false- 
hood and  sometimes  perjury;  in  sporadic  acts  of 
mob  violence,  especially  in  the  less  well-settled 
portions  of  the  country,  where  the  impatient  peo- 
ple will  not  wait  for  the  slower  process  of  the  law; 
in  the  occasional  open  defiance  of  the  law  by  or- 
ganized mobs,  especially  in  great  cities  such  as 
Chicago,  Pittsburg,  Cleveland,  and  New  York; 
in  not  less  flagrant  violations  of  law  by  great  cor- 
porations, who  are  very  rarely  called  to  account 
for  their  disobedience. 

While  this  volume  is  going  through  the  press 
the  assassination  of  President  McKinley  affords  a 
startling  and  tragical  illustration  of  the  perils 
threatened  to  democratic  institutions  by  the  spirit 
of  lawlessness.  Intemperate  speech,  going  far 
beyond  all  bounds  of  legitimate  discussion  of  either 
public  measures  or  public  men,  had  exhausted  the 
resources  of  vehement  rhetoric  in  vituperation  of 
the  chief  magistrate  of  the  nation.  He  had  been 
assailed  by  reputable  men  and  women  as  "un- 
scrupulous and  deceitful, ' '  "  the  most  unmoral  of 
all  the  occupants  "  of  the  presidential  chair,  char- 
acterized by  "vacillation,  infirmity  of  purpose,  and 
general  dishonesty,"  as  "affable  putty,"  a  "pup- 
pet," "watchful  for  votes  alone,"  a  "traitor,"  one 
who  "stands  not  only  for  cheating  and  robbery, 
but  also  for  arson  and  murder,"  a  "shameless 


296 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


President,"  "an  Ohio  twaddler,"  with  "mediocrity 
of  mind  and  low  left-handed  cunning,"  whose  name 
history  would  "pillory  in  letters  black,"  "whether 
as  tool  or  tyrant  .  .  .  time  alone  can  tell."  While 
these  epithets  were  flung  in  widespread  publica- 
tions by  reputable  Americans  in  an  endeavor  to 
excite  popular  passion  against  the  man  whom  the 
nation  had  chosen  to  be  its  leader,  the  doctrine 
was  in  smaller  circles  sedulously  taught  that  all 
government  is  oppression,  that  all  rulers  are  "tool 
or  tyrant,"  and  stand  "not  only  for  cheating  and 
robbery,  but  for  arson  and  murder,"  and  that  there 
is  a  sacred  right  and  even  a  solemn  duty  to  slay 
them  at  sight,  as  we  would  slay  a  prowling  wolf  or 
a  man-eating  tiger.  One  of  the  disciples  of  this 
school  traveled  across  the  sea  from  America  and 
assassinated  the  king  of  Italy,  and  his  fellow  dis- 
ciples here  met  and  glorified  his  act;  still  Amer- 
icans contented  themselves  with  newspaper  pro- 
tests; nowhere  was  a  vigorous,  concerted,  and 
continuous  effort  made  either  to  restrain  by  law 
the  speeches  of  Anarchists  inciting  to  crime  and 
glorifying  it  when  committed,  or  to  rebuke  by 
public  opinion  the  speeches  of  embittered  partisans 
transcending  all  the  bounds  of  honorable  public 
debate.  At  last  a  man  of  feeble  intellect  and  still 
feebler  conscience,  with  that  ambition  for  notoriety 
which  a  sensational  press  does  much  to  stimulate 
even  in  larger  men,  put  the  public  teaching  of  the 
partisans  and  the  private  teachings  of  the  An- 
archists together  and  carried  them  to  their  logical 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  297 


conclusion.  The  one  had  told  him  that  William 
McKinley  was  a  tyrant,  the  other  that  all  tyrants 
ought  to  die,  and  he  resolved  to  achieve  a  martyr's 
crown  by  carrying  into  execution  the  lesson  he  had 
learned.  It  is  idle  to  charge  the  result  to  immi- 
gration, or  to  think  that  repetition  of  such  murders 
can  be  guarded  against  by  sentinels  placed  at  the 
landing  piers  of  our  Atlantic  cities.  Booth, 
Guiteau,  and  Czolgosz  were  all  native  Americans, 
and  Czolgosz  was  a  graduate  of  our  public  schools. 
The  assassination  of  William  McKinley  was  the 
ripened  fruit  of  seed  sown  by  lawless  tongues  in 
partisan  invective  which  public  opinion,  regardless 
of  party,  should  have  sternly  rebuked,  and  in 
Anarchistic  counseling  of  crime  which  public  law 
ought  to  have  forbidden  under  severe  penalty. 

An  illustration  on  a  larger  scale  of  the  spirit  of 
self-will  which  democratic  institutions  foster,  and 
which  in  turn  fosters  the  spirit  and  methods  of 
lawlessness,  was  afforded  by  the  civil  war.  The 
tendency  of  local  self-government  separated  the 
country  into  two  sections.  North  and  South.  Sla- 
very embittered  the  conflict  between  the  two ;  war 
ensued,  the  cost  of  which  in  life  and  treasure  it 
is  impossible  to  estimate.  It  is  true  that  the  re- 
sult of  the  war  proved  the  power  of  democracy  to 
enforce  its  will  when  that  will  is  once  thoroughly 
aroused;  but  the  very  fact  of  such  a  struggle  bears 
witness  to  the  peril  which  the  enforcement  of  the 
national  will  may  at  any  time  involve.  The  next 
controversy,  if  there  is  one,  will  probably  not  be 


298 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


between  different  sections  of  the  country,  but 
between  different  classes  in  the  community. 

I  do  not  see  how  any  one  looking  upon  our  in- 
dustrial situation  can  doubt  that  there  is  peril  of  a 
serious  strife  between  capitalists  and  wage -workers. 
The  wage -workers  are  generally  without  capital, 
often  without  education,  sometimes  densely  igno- 
rant. Masses  of  them  have  never  been  taught 
the  difficult  art  of  self-government.  Coming  from 
countries  in  which  the  church  has  been  too  often 
an  instrument  of  priestly  oppression,  and  the  state 
too  often  an  instrument  of  political  oppression, 
they  bring  with  them  an  inherited  hatred  of  both 
state  and  church,  and  a  disbelief  in  man  which  is 
more  dangerous  to  society  than  that  disbelief  in 
God  which  always  accompanies  it.  Freed  from  the 
restraints  of  the  Old  World,  they  are  at  the  same 
time  endowed  with  powers  which  in  the  Old  World 
they  never  possessed  —  free  ballot,  a  free  press, 
and  free  speech.  Add  to  this  the  fact  that,  with 
dynamite  carried  in  a  carpet-bag,  the  modern  Guy 
Fawkes  can  destroy  in  an  instant  the  products  of 
a  century's  industry.  In  a  warfare  between  classes 
for  the  possession  of  property,  civilization  has  every 
advantage;  in  a  warfare  of  Anarchy  against  all 
property,  anarchy  has  every  advantage.  There  is 
no  power  in  the  state  which  the  restless  and  the 
unprincipled  recognize  and  which  they  fear,  no 
power  in  the  church  to  which  their  conscience  or 
their  superstition  compels  obedience.  The  public 
schools  address  not  their  conscience,  but  their 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  299 


intellect.  They  live  in  a  country  where  the  chief 
sujiport  of  order  is  an  enlightened  conscience  and 
the  chief  protection  of  property  an  enlightened 
self-interest,  and  neither  their  conscience  nor  their 
self-interest  is  enlightened. 

The  number  of  such  discontented,  restless,  and 
Anarchic  individuals  is  not  large,  but  their  power 
is  out  of  proportion  to  their  numbers.  Trades- 
unions  exist  in  nearly  every  state  of  the  Union 
and  in  most  of  the  territories.  Agriculture  is 
the  only  considerable  industry  which  has  not  its 
industrial  organization.  These  unions  are  essen- 
tially warlike  both  in  their  aims  and  in  their 
methods ;  that  is,  they  are  not  primarily  organized 
to  promote  education,  facilitate  apprenticeship,  in- 
troduce new  methods  of  labor,  encourage  the  in- 
troduction of  labor-saving  machines,  and  equalize 
wages  by  equalization  of  intelligence  and  industry. 
They  are  not  organized  like  a  political  club,  for 
purposes  of  personal  intercourse ;  nor  like  a  literary 
club,  for  purposes  of  education;  nor  like  a  co- 
operative club,  for  purposes  of  mutual  benefit; 
they  are  organized  to  protect  their  members 
against  real  or  fancied  oppression  of  employers, 
or  to  wrest  from  employers  a  larger  share  of  the 
profits.  They  are  founded  on  the  assumption  that 
the  interests  of  employer  and  employed  are  antag- 
onistic. They  are  ruled  over  generally  by  a  direc- 
tory scarcely  less  absolute  than  that  which  governed 
the  Revolutionists  in  the  day  of  Mirabeau,  which 
meets  in  secret,  demands  implicit  obedience  to  its 


300 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


orders,  and  forces  obedience  to  them  by  indus- 
trial excommunication,  and  sometimes  by  open 
violence  or  secret  assault.  In  times  of  industrial 
peace  these  trades-unions  are  a  conservative  force. 
They  facilitate  cooperation  between  labor  and 
capital,  and  they  constitute  a  necessary  protection 
of  the  individual  laborer  against  the  otherwise  irre- 
sistible power  of  capital,  which  is  always  combined. 
But  in  time  of  industrial  war  the  radicals  in  these 
organizations  come  to  the  front.  Their  radicalism 
gives  them  a  control  to  which  their  judgment  does 
not  entitle  them.  The  union,  organized  and  main- 
tained in  a  pacific  spirit  in  time  of  peace,  becomes 
in  a  labor  war,  by  its  solidarity,  by  the  sympathy 
of  large  sections  of  the  community  with  it,  and 
especially  by  the  opportunity  which  its  action 
affords  to  the  lawless  and  to  the  violent,  a  menace 
not  only  to  the  employer  but  to  the  entire  commu- 
nity. 

While  thus  labor  is  organizing,  and  the  organi- 
zations at  times  pass  under  the  influence  of  violent 
and  lawless  agitators,  capital  is  also  organizing, 
and  passes  at  times  under  the  control  of  leaders 
more  astute  but  not  more  scrupulous.  The  con- 
centration of  the  wealth  of  many  in  the  hands  of 
a  few  is  of  great  industrial  advantage  in  times  of 
peace,  but  it  gives  to  the  few  power  perilous  to 
democracy  in  times  when  men's  passions  or  their 
fears  are  aroused.  The  wealth  invested  in  Amer- 
ican railroads  counts  by  billions,  the  annual  in- 
come by  hundreds  of  millions.  The  owners  of  this 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  301 


wealth  are  combined  in  great  corporations  and 
combinations  of  corporations.  Against  them  the 
private  citizen  is  ahnost  powerless.  The  working- 
men  must  take  what  work  they  will  furnish  at  what 
wages  they  will  give.  The  shipper  must  pay  what 
rates  they  charge.  There  is  no  appeal  to  the  law, 
because  in  general  the  law  recognizes  the  right  of 
the  corporation  to  hire  its  labor  in  the  cheapest 
market  and  to  charge  for  freight  what  the  traffic 
will  bear.  If  the  actions  of  the  corporation  are 
illegal,  the  expense  of  proving  their  illegality  and 
bringing  the  corporation  to  account  is  so  great  that 
the  private  citizen  is  estopped  from  appeal  to  the 
courts  for  justice.  When  the  country  is  prosper- 
ous and  the  demand  for  manufactured  goods  is 
great,  and  money  is  plenty,  and  mills  are  busy, 
and  wages  are  high,  the  peril  of  open  controversy 
between  employer  and  employed  disappears;  but 
only  to  reappear  when  times  are  hard,  when  a 
glutted  market  paralyzes  industry,  when  mills  are 
closed,  when  workmen  are  thrown  out  of  employ- 
ment, when  hundreds  of  thousands  draw  near  the 
starvation  line,  while  a  small  and  wealthy  aristo- 
cracy know  not  how  to  spend  their  income  or  even 
the  interest  on  their  investment.^ 

These  perils  are  aggravated  by  four  types  of 
leaders  in  our  country,  whom  I  will  call  respec- 

1  The  possible  peril  here  so  briefly  sketched  I  have  described 
more  fully  in  an  article  published  in  the  Century  Magazine  for 
November,  1885,  entitled  "  Danger  Ahead,"  thoug-h  it  is  proper 
to  say  that  at  that  time  the  danger  seemed  both  greater  and 
more  imminent  than  it  does  now. 


302 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


lively  the  demagogue,  the  boss,  the  plutocrat,  and 
the  medicine-man. 

The  demagogue  is  to  democracy  what  the  cour- 
tier was  in  olden  times  to  the  king;  he  lives  by 
flattering  his  sovereign.  The  majority  is  sovereign 
in  America,  and  the  demagogue  assures  this  sover- 
eign that  he  can  do  no  wrong.  He  appeals  to  his 
passions;  he  cultivates  his  foibles;  he  is  careful 
never  to  irritate  or  cross  his  wishes  or  his  whims. 
He  does  not  hesitate  to  excite  class  against  class, 
section  against  section,  sect  against  sect,  if  by  so 
doing  he  can  win  fame  or  fortune.  If  he  speaks 
upon  the  platform,  he  speaks  that  he  may  win  the 
applause  of  his  audience,  not  that  he  may  lead 
them  on  to  a  higher  ground.  If  he  edits  a  news- 
paper, he  talks  morality  in  his  editorial  pages  and 
spreads  vice  and  sensationalism  in  all  its  worst 
forms  in  his  reading  columns,  and  thinks  he  pub- 
lishes a  great  newspaper  because  he  publishes  an 
affidavit  that  a  great  many  copies  of  it  go  out 
from  the  printing-press,  and  never  an  affidavit  how 
many  of  them  come  back  to  be  burned  for  fuel. 
This  conscious  and  deliberate  demagogue  is  not 
so  dangerous  as  the  half-unconscious  demagogue. 
Mr.  Gladstone  is  reported  to  have  said,  "What 
my  audience  gives  to  me  in  spray,  I  give  them 
back  in  drops."  The  half -unconscious  demagogue 
speaks  to  a  prejudiced  and  not  too  intelligent 
audience.  They  give  him  muddy  water  in  spray, 
and  he  gives  them  back  muddy  water  in  drops. 
He  simply  reflects  the  sentiment  of  the  people  to 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  303 


whom  he  talks;  there  are  innumerable  men  in 
America  who  think  the  highest  compliment  they 
can  give  to  a  public  speaker,  secular  or  religious, 
is,  "You  said  just  what  I  have  always  thought." 
Such  a  demagogue,  conscious  or  unconscious,  re- 
flecting the  sentiments  of  the  people,  stirring  pas- 
sions that  should  be  allayed  and  stimulating  hostil- 
ity that  should  be  pacified,  intensifies  and  energizes 
the  egotism  and  the  self-will  which  should  be  cor- 
rected and  restrained. 

The  demagogue,  whether  he  speaks  from  the 
platform  or  edits  a  newspaper,  whether  he  is  con- 
scious or  unconscious,  whether  he  directly  and 
openly  appeals  to  class  prejudice  or  covers  his  ap- 
peal with  a  mask  of  piety  and  patriotism,  is  not  so 
dangerous  as  the  boss.  Government  in  a  demo- 
cracy necessitates  parties,  parties  necessitate  ma- 
chinery, and  machinery  necessitates  a  leader  or 
leaders,  who  must  give  the  initiative  and  furnish 
the  guidance.  The  boss  is  a  leader  who  uses  this 
machinery  either  for  personal  or  for  party  ends, 
not  for  the  ends  for  which  the  party  itself  has 
been  organized.  We  are  familiar  in  church  his- 
tory with  three  types  of  ecclesiastic  —  the  place- 
hunter,  who  uses  the  church  for  his  own  advance- 
ment; the  church  partisan,  who  regards  his  church 
organization  as  essential  to  the  cause  of  religion, 
and  therefore  identifies  the  cause  of  his  church 
with  the  cause  of  religion;  and  the  non-church- 
man, who  affiliates  himself  with  some  church  sim- 
ply as  a  means  of  promoting  the  religious  life  in 


304 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


others  and  in  himself.  The  same  classification  is 
possible  in  politics.  There  are  politicians  who 
use  the  party  for  their  own  political  advancement; 
politicians  who  regard  their  party  organization  as 
essential  to  the  nation's  weKare,  and  regard  par- 
tisanship and  patriotism  as  substantially  identi- 
cal; and  politicians  to  whom  the  party  is  simply  a 
convenient  means  to  accomplish  public  ends,  to 
be  adhered  to  when  it  subserves  these  ends,  to  be 
abandoned  when  it  ceases  to  do  so.  The  "boss" 
belongs  to  the  first  or  second  class ;  that  is,  he  is 
a  leader  who  does  not  simply  attach  himself  to  a 
party  and  employ  its  organization  to  secure  certain 
political  ends  which  he  regards  as  vital  for  the 
welfare  of  the  country,  but  one  who  belongs  to  the 
party  and  uses  the  party  machinery  either  to  ad- 
vance his  own  interests  or  that  of  the  party.  He 
is  rarely  scrupulous,  and  never  very  scrupulous. 
He  believes  that  "all  is  fair  in  love  and  war,"  and 
that  politics  is  war;  that  one  must  "fight  fire  with 
fire,"  and  that  the  enemy  is  always  using  fire; 
that  the  "end  justifies  the  means,"  and  that  the 
end  is  the  supremacy  of  his  party  in  the  city,  the 
state,  or  the  nation,  and  generally  his  supremacy 
in  the  party;  that  "nothing  succeeds  like  success," 
and  that  whatever  is  successful  is  justified  by  the 
success.  The  methods  of  the  boss  vary;  the  end 
is  always  the  same :  political  success  for  his  party 
and  incidentally  for  himself,  or  political  success 
for  himself  and  incidentally  for  his  party.  I  had 
the  opportunity  once  of  traveling  with  the  lieuten- 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  305 


ant  of  one  of  the  widely  known  political  bosses  of 
this  country,  and  he  told  me,  in  a  burst  of  frank- 
ness for  which  I  was  very  much  obliged  to  him, 
how  the  politics  in  his  state  were  administered. 
The  corporations,  he  said,  which  desired  favors 
from  the  legislature,  or  the  corporations  which 
feared  that  they  might  be  blackmailed  by  members 
of  the  legislature,  found  it  easier  to  work  through 
one  man  than  through  many  men.  They  therefore 
paid  to  the  boss  of  his  party  a  considerable  sum  of 
money  for  election  expenses.  "I  do  not  think,"  he 
said  in  substance,  "that  any  of  the  money  stays  in 
his  pocket.  I  do  not  think  he  is  in  politics  for  what 
he  can  personally  make  out  of  them.  But  when 
an  election  is  coming  on,  he  writes  to  the  candi- 
dates for  the  legislature,  asking  each  candidate 
who  belongs  to  his  party  how  much  he  will  need  in 
bis  district,  and  the  money  needed  is  forthcoming. 
No  pledges  are  taken,  no  promises  are  exacted. 
If  in  the  next  legislature  that  man,  having  received 
support  for  his  election  by  this  method,  does  not 
vote  as  the  director  of  his  party  desires  him  to 
vote,  at  the  next  election  he  can  pay  his  own  elec- 
tion expenses."  This  is  not  a  very  gross  form  of 
corruption ;  but,  coupled  with  others  that  are  prob- 
ably more  debasing,  it  puts  one  man  at  the  centre 
of  political  power. 

In  this  instance  the  ambition  of  the  boss  was 
apparently  the  success  of  his  party  and  only  inci- 
dentally his  own  success.  The  case  of  Mr.  Rich- 
ard Croker  and  Tammany  Hall  illustrates  the  case 


306 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


of  an  organization  and  a  boss,  both  of  which  are 
inspired  by  a  more  sordid  purpose.  In  a  compara- 
tively recent  political  investigation  Mr.  Richard 
Croker,  on  the  stand,  without  the  slightest  hesita- 
tion and  with  entire  frankness  unfolded  his  theory 
and  his  practice  as  the  leader  or  "boss"  of  Tam- 
many, both  of  which  terms  he  accepted  as  applied 
to  himself;  he  explained  how  he  distributed  city 
patronage,  including  various  municipal  offices  and 
even  Supreme  Court  judgeships,  in  such  a  way  as 
to  give  to  him  and  his  associates  the  largest  finan- 
cial return.  The  "  Outlook  "  thus  summarized  at 
the  time  a  part  of  his  testimony :  — 

I  believe  that  to  the  party  belong  the  spoils,  and  we 
expect  everybody  to  stand  by  us.  That 's  what  the  peo- 
ple voted  our  ticket  for.  So  long  as  we  offer  just  as 
good  men  for  office  as  any  other  party,  I  believe  we 
should  have  all  the  offices  we  can  get.  We  expect  to  be 
permitted  to  make  a  living.  Working  for  my  own 
pocket  ?  Yes.  All  the  time,  every  day  in  the  week, 
the  same  as  you  are.  Plunder  ?  You  may  caU  it  what- 
ever you  like  ;  because  men  are  loyal  to  us,  you  call 
that  plunder.  Positions,  offices,  and  money  that  come  in 
a  legitimate  way  should  go  to  the  organization.  Tam- 
many nominates  judges,  for  instance,  who  contribute 
liberally  to  her  funds  —  no,  not  as  high  as  $18,000 
[one  judge  testified  that  he  contributed  $10,000  at  Mr. 
Croker's  request]  —  these  judges  appoint  as  referees 
Tammany  men  as  a  matter  of  course ;  these  referees 
give  their  sales  to  Tammany  auctioneers.  I  am  part- 
ner in  an  auctioneer  firm  that  gets  most  of  these  judicial 
sales.    Action  of  the  judges  was  secured  to  remove  all 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  307 


sales  to  111  Broadway  when  I  became  Mr.  Meyer's 
partner  there,  and  our  firm  has  a  monopoly  of  the 
sales. 

The  extent  to  which  this  spoils  system  is  carried 
in  all  parts  of  the  country,  in  city,  state,  and 
nation,  and  by  both  political  parties,  is  probably 
not  realized  by  the  country,  despite  much  news- 
paper denunciation.  How  absolutely  fatal  it  is  to 
true  democracy,  how  it  substitutes  the  will  of  one 
man  or  a  few  men,  and  those  too  often  unscrupu- 
lous and  self-seeking,  for  the  will  of  the  majority, 
and  how  demoralizing  it  is  to  the  public  con- 
science, from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  is  quite 
apparent  without  further  comment.  How  difficult 
it  is  to  overcome,  many  a  sporadic  reform  move- 
ment, leading  to  no  permanent  result,  has  unhap- 
pily illustrated. 

More  perilous  to  the  country  than  either  dema- 
gogue or  boss  is  the  plutocrat.  A  man  is  not  a 
plutocrat  because  he  is  very  rich.  A  plutocrat  is 
one  who  exercises  political  control  by  means  of 
his  wealth,  one  who,  having  control  of  money, 
uses  that  money  to  control  government  for  the 
purpose  of  having  government  foster  the  interests 
in  which  he  himself  is  directly  or  indirectly  con- 
cerned. Sometimes  the  plutocrat  sends  his  hench- 
men to  the  election  districts  and  buys  the  votes  at 
so  much  a  head.  Since  the  introduction  of  the 
Australian  ballot  system  this  is  difficult,  for  he 
is  not  sure  that  the  votes  will  be  delivered  as 
promised.    Sometimes  he  goes  to  the  legislature 


308 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


and  buys  a  few  men  directly.  But  the  number  of 
legislators  who  are  directly  purchasable  by  money 
is  comparatively  small,  and  is  greatly  exaggerated 
by  newspaper  reports.  Still,  this  form  of  corrup- 
tion is  not  uncommon,  nor  is  it  carried  on  upon 
a  small  scale,  nor  does  it  shock  the  American  con- 
science as  it  ought  to  shock  that  conscience.  Mr. 
Clark  was  elected  to  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States  by  his  state.  An  official  investigation  took 
place,  and  it  was  demonstrated  that  he  expended 
large  sums  in  the  purchase  of  legislators ;  the  sums 
were  known,  the  payments  were  demonstrated;  he 
was  refused  his  seat  by  the  Senate,  went  back  to 
his  state,  and  his  state  has  reelected  him  to  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States.  More  frequently 
the  plutocrat  works  by  more  indirect  methods.  He 
gives,  or  sells  at  a  low  price,  the  stock  of  the  cor- 
poration in  which  he  is  interested  to  legislators  on 
whose  vote  the  future  value  of  the  stock  will  de- 
pend; he  furnishes  legislators,  judges,  newspaper 
men,  with  passes  over  the  railroad  which  desires 
special  favors ;  he  employs  legislators  or  ex-legis- 
lators at  large  salaries  as  attorneys  to  secure  de- 
sired legislation.  In  the  case  of  the  Pacific  Rail- 
road, so  largely  built  out  of  government  moneys 
loaned  to  a  private  corporation,  it  is  matter  of 
official  report  that  stock  was  sold  below  market 
rates  to  Congressmen  whose  votes  might  be  of  im- 
portance in  the  future;  that  one  United  States 
Commissioner  was  paid  125,000  in  consideration 
of  signing  a  report  accepting  a  section  of  the  road ; 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY 


309 


and  that  nearly  half  a  million  dollars  was  paid  to 
a  representative  of  the  company  for  securing  the 
passage  of  an  act  which  made  the  Government 
lien  a  second  mortgage.  The  extent  to  which  in 
past  times  the  power  of  the  plutocrat  has  been  ex- 
ercised in  national  politics  is  thus  illustrated  by 
Mr.  Hudson ;  — 

The  records  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  how- 
ever, furnish  a  terrible  warning  against  the  corporate 
practice  of  gaining  the  support  of  members  by  pecuniary 
influence.  The  most  conspicuous  instance  is  found  in 
that  cemetery  of  political  reputations,  the  report  on  the 
Credit  Mobilier.  The  insidious  approaches  by  which 
agents  of  corporate  schemes,  unrestrained  by  any  scru- 
ples, gradually  bind  the  people's  representatives  to  their 
interests,  are  manifold  ;  but  this  wholesale  murder  of 
national  characters  typifies  them  all.  How  many  of  the 
Congressmen  who  were  quietly  and  plausibly  induced  to 
take  shares  in  that  great  and  successful  public  swindle 
knew  that  they  were  becoming  tools  of  corporate  adven- 
turers it  is  hard  to  tell.  .  .  .  The  salient  fact  is  that 
scores  of  most  promising  careers  were  cut  short  by 
the  discovery  that  they  had  been  used  by  the  Pacific 
Railway  speculators.  Such  corruption  assumes  a  hun- 
dred forms.  Gifts,  loans,  investments,  favors  of  infinite 
variety,  may  be  brought  to  surround  a  public  man,  until 
all  his  circumstances  and  prospects  tie  him  to  the  cause 
of  the  corporations.  The  knowledge  of  what  has  been 
done,  and  especially  the  epitaphs  on  political  prospects 
slaughtered  by  the  Credit  Mobilier,  must  always  show 
what  unscrupulous  and  irresponsible  corporations  can  ef- 
fect in  corrupting  the  highest  political  instrumentalities.^ 

^  Railways  and  the  Republic^  pp.  460. 


310 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


The  fourth  leader  who  adds  to  our  perils  I  call 
the  "medicine -man."  I  will  not  call  him  "quack," 
because  this  would  involve  too  great  obloquy ;  nor 
"professional  reformer,"  because  this  pays  to  him 
too  great  deference.  I  call  him  medicine-man  be- 
cause he  thinks  there  is  one  medicine  which  will 
cure  all  the  ills  to  which  humanity  is  subject. 
Sometimes  he  is  the  advocate  of  two  remedies, 
sometimes  he  vacillates  between  two.  He  is  gen- 
erally morally  honest,  but  intellectually  narrow; 
be  is  not  a  hypocrite,  but  he  is  apt  to  be  a  Phari- 
see, with  a  strong  sense  of  "I  am  holier  than  thou  " 
pervading  his  dogmatic  utterances.  He  imagines 
that  universal  suffrage  will  cure  all  political  evils ; 
or  free  silver  all  commercial  and  financial  evils; 
or  a  single  tax  on  land  all  industrial  evils;  or 
woman  suffrage  or  prohibition,  or 'the  two  com- 
bined, all  moral  evils.  I  do  not  here  consider  the 
value  of  prohibition,  or  woman  suffrage,  or  the 
single  tax  on  land,  or  free  silver,  or  universal  suf- 
frage ;  but  he  who  imagines  that  all  evils  are  due 
to  one  social  or  political  cause,  and  can  be  cured 
by  one  social  or  political  reform,  has  studied  hu- 
man nature  and  human  history  to  little  purpose. 
Unfortunately,  there  are  many  good  men  in  Amer- 
ica who  cannot  be  influenced  by  the  demagogue  — 
their  moral  sense  resents  his  appeals  to  popular 
prejudices ;  nor  led  by  the  boss  —  they  are  too 
independent;  nor  purchased  by  the  plutocrat  — 
they  are  too  honest  —  who  are  swayed  by  the 
medicine-man  because  he  appeals  to  their  con- 


THE  PERILS  OF  DEMOCRACY  311 


science;  and  their  conscience  is  not  very  intelli- 
gent. 

These  causes  combine  to  produce  certain  very 
apparent  tendencies  in  American  life ;  the  tendency 
to  superficial  reforms,  accomplished  by  a  spasm  of 
virtue  and  followed  by  the  apathy  of  discouragement 
and  almost  despair ;  the  tendency  to  substitute  big- 
ness for  greatness  and  quantity  for  quality,  to  think 
that  much  reading  means  much  intelligence,  and 
the  existence  of  pictures  everywhere  means  univer- 
sal taste ;  the  tendency  in  politics  to  think  that  if 
in  New  York  we  can  turn  the  Democratic  party 
out  and  put  the  Republican  party  in,  and  in  Phil- 
adelphia we  can  turn  the  Republican  party  out 
and  put  the  Democratic  party  in,  we  shall  have 
political  reform ;  the  tendency  in  education  to  ac- 
cept a  superficial  knowledge  of  many  subjects  for 
a  thorough  acquaintance  in  one ;  the  tendency  in 
morals  to  imagine  that  the  enactment  of  a  right- 
eous law  makes  a  righteous  community,  that  put- 
ting prohibition  in  the  Constitution  makes  the 
State  temperate,  and  putting  God  in  the  Constitu- 
tion would  make  the  nation  devout;  the  tendency 
in  religion  to  substitute  emotionalism  or  dogma- 
tism for  life,  and  to  suppose  that  a  church  is  sound 
because  it  is  orthodox  and  a  man  is  religious  be- 
cause he  has  feeling. 

Such  are  some  of  the  perils  which  seem  to  me 
to  threaten  America.  The  root  of  them  all  is  the 
lack  of  a  central  authority;  the  cure  for  all  is  in 
finding  that  central  authority.    It  will  not  be 


312 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


found  in  the  central  authority  of  a  Caesar;  nor  in 
an  aristocracy,  hereditary  or  otherwise;  nor  in 
a  church,  Papal  or  Protestant;  nor  in  a  Bible 
accepted  as  the  final  word  of  God.  It  must  be 
found  only  in  the  recognition  by  every  individual 
soul  of  the  voice  of  God  speaking  within  each 
man.  I  look  forward  sometimes  with  great  exhil- 
aration and  sometimes  with  appalling  fear  on  the 
future.  When  the  great  problem  on  which  we 
have  entered  is  brought  to  its  close,  what  will  the 
result  be?  Will  it  afford  another  demonstration 
that  a  nation  without  God  will  inevitably  go  on  to 
ruin,  whether  it  be  oligarchic  or  aristocratic  or 
/monarchic  or  democratic?  Or  will  its  splendid 
future  demonstrate  that  every  man  is  akin  to  God, 
that  all  men  can  find  in  him  a  common  centre  and 
a  common  authority,  and  that  government  needs 
no  other  basis  than  the  authority  which  it  finds  in 
the  universal  conscience  uttering  the  voice  of  the 
Almighty  King? 


LECTURE  XI 


SAFEGUAKDS 

There  is  in  literature  no  better  definition  of 
democracy  than  that  furnished  by  Abraham  Lin- 
coln: "Government  of  the  people,  for  the  people, 
and  by  the  people."  It  is  government:  not  no- 
government;  not  mere  individualism;  not  anarchy; 
and  it  has  no  kinship  with  anarchy.  It  is  govern- 
ment for  the  people,  and  for  all  the  people ;  it  is 
not  for  the  benefit  of  any  class  —  neither  for  an 
aristocratic  class  nor  for  a  democratic  class;  it  is 
not,  as  all  oligarchies  have  been,  for  the  benefit  of 
the  rich ;  nor  as  Aristotle  feared  it  would  be,  for 
the  benefit  of  the  poor.  It  assumes,  therefore, 
that  government  can  be  for  all  the  people;  that 
what  is  for  the  interest  of  one  is  for  the  interest 
of  all,  and  what  is  an  injury  to  one  is  an  injury  to 
all.  It  thus  assumes  the  community  of  humanity, 
the  oneness  of  their  political  well-being.  The 
mediaeval  saints  thought  that  they  could  benefit 
their  brains  by  starving  their  stomachs;  they 
found  it  a  mistake.  The  body  is  one  organism; 
an  injury  to  one  part  is  an  injury  to  every  part. 
Democracy  assumes  that  society  is  an  organism, 
no  part  of  which  can  be  benefited  and  the  rest  not 


314 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


receive  benefit,  no  part  of  which  can  be  injured 
and  the  rest  not  suffer  injury.  It  is  government 
by  the  people.  It  finds  the  sources  of  political 
power  in  the  people.  Whatever  power  is  exer- 
cised over  the  people  by  administrators  is  exercised 
derivatively.  It  is  not  government  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  which  every  member  of  the  com- 
munity partakes  —  only  a  minority  really  partake 
in  the  administration;  nor  is  it  a  government  iu 
which  every  individual,  or  even  every  household, 
much  less  every  piece  of  property,  is  directly  re- 
presented by  voice  or  vote.  The  doctrine  "no 
taxation  without  representation  "  does  not  mean  in 
democracy  that  wherever  property  is  taxed  there 
must  be  a  vote.  Democracy  is  not  a  representa- 
tion of  pocketbooks,  but  of  persons;  it  is  a  repre- 
sentation of  the  common  judgment  and  the  com- 
mon conscience,  not  merely,  nor  even  chiefly,  of 
the  common  pecuniary  interest.  But  though  it  is 
not  necessarily  government  by  every  one,  it  is  ne- 
cessarily government  in  which  every  class  is  repre- 
sented. AU  class  government  is  antagonistic  to 
democracy.  There  may  be  property  qualifications, 
but  if  so  they  must  be  such  qualifications  that 
economy,  prudence,  thrift,  can  meet  them.  There 
may  be  educational  qualifications,  but  if  so  they 
must  be  such  that  industry  and  energy  may  meet 
them.  There  can  be  no  race  qualification,  there 
can  be  no  hereditary  qualification,  in  a  democracy; 
democracy  is  government  "by  the  people." 

Such  government  "  of  the  people,  for  the  people, 


SAFEGUARDS 


315 


by  the  people "  is  a  comparatively  recent  experi- 
ment. There  were  Greek  democracies  and  Roman 
democracies,  but  they  were  neither  of  them  demo- 
cracies in  this  sense.  Democracy  in  this  sense 
did  not  exist  in  the  Southern  states  until  after  the 
Civil  War.  Democracy  in  this  sense  is  not  much 
over  a  hundred  years  old  in  any  part  of  the  world. 
It  is  an  infant;  it  is  experimental;  we  must 
frankly  recognize  it  as  an  experiment. 

Is  it  likely  to  be  a  successful  experiment?  I 
wish  to  put  before  you  to-night  some  reasons  why 
I  think  we  have  a  right  to  believe  it  will  be  a  sue-  / 
cessful  experiment,  why  we  have  a.  right  to  believe 
that  it  is  permanent. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is,  as  we  have  seen,  the  out- 
come of  a  long  historical  process ;  the  result  of  the 
political  evolution  of  eighteen  centuries;  and  the 
result  not  only  of  an  evolution,  but  of  a  conflict 
carried  on  through  eighteen  centuries  between 
Roman  imperialism,  where  the  government  was 
for  the  few  and  by  the  few,  and  Hebraic  liberty, 
where  the  government  was  for  the  many  and  in 
large  measure  by  the  many.  This  controversy  of 
eighteen  centuries  has  developed  that  democratic 
spirit  and  produced  those  democratic  forms  of 
government  which  exist  with  modifications  in  all 
western  Europe,  and  which  have  reached  their  most 
perfect  form  in  the  United  States  of  America.  A 
great  river  rising  among  the  mountains  and  flowing 
steadily  in  one  direction  with  increasing  current 
is  not  likely  to  turn  upon  its  course  and  flow  back 


316 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


again  to  the  fountain  from  which  it  issued.  A 
great  stream  of  tendency  which  can  be  traced  with 
"widening  and  deepening  current  through  eighteen 
centuries  may  be  assumed  to  be  not  one  liable 
suddenly  to  return  upon  its  course,  or  to  perish 
from  sight  leaving  no  result.  He  who  believes 
that  God  is  carrying  on  a  work  in  the  world,  that 
he  is  directing  the  course  of  human  history,  that 
he  is  working  out  the  ultimate  result  in  human 
society,  may  well  believe  that  this  great  historic 
movement  is  not  a  useless  nor  an  unmeaning  one; 
may  well  believe  that  the  ultimate  result  will  be, 
not  necessarily  our  form  of  government,  but  neces- 
sarily the  victory  of  those  principles  of  government 
which  were  germinant  in  the  ancient  Hebraic  com- 
monwealth, and  of  which  America  furnishes  to-day 
the  best  existing  embodiment. 

Those  principles  are  not  embodied  alone  in 
government.  Democracy  is  more  than  a  form  of 
government.  England  is  democratic,  but  her  form 
of  government  is  different  from  ours;  France  also 
is  democratic,  but  her  form  of  government  is  dif- 
ferent both  from  ours  and  from  that  of  England. 
Democracy  is  an  order  of  society ;  it  is  a  spiritual 
organism.  It  means,  as  we  have  seen,  not  merely 
government  "of  the  people,  for  the  people,  by  the 
people; "  it  also  means  industry  and  education  and 
religion  "of  the  people,  for  the  people,  by  the 
people."  It  means  a  recognition  of  the  truth  that 
wealth  is  in  some  true  sense  a  common  wealth ;'  it 
means,  therefore,  a  larger  distribution  of  wealth 


SAFEGUARDS 


317 


and  a  more  popular  control  over  wealth.  It  is 
hostile  to  any  state  of  society  in  which  the  many 
labor  that  the  few  may  be  idle.  It  involves  indus- 
try of  brain  or  of  muscle  by  all  men,  and  it  in- 
volves fair  recompense  for  toil  to  all  men.  Indus- 
trial democracy  is  not  yet,  indeed,  established. 
In  the  realm  of  industry  the  controversy  between 
imperialism  and  the  principles  of  the  Hebraic 
commonwealth  has  yet  to  be  wrought  out,  and 
perhaps  so  wrought  out  upon  this  soil.  But  even 
here  in  America,  where  the  industrial  democracy 
is  not  yet  achieved,  there  is  a  larger  distribution 
of  wealth  and  of  material  happiness,  and  a  greater 
necessity  for  universal  labor,  and  a  greater  recog- 
nition of  that  necessity,  than  ever  existed  in  the 
past,  or  than  exists  in  any  other  quarter  of  the 
globe,  Australia  alone  excepted. 

Democracy  is  also  education  for  the  people  and 
by  the  people ;  not  merely  nor  mainly  for  an  intel- 
lectual class ;  education,  therefore,  in  those  things 
which  all  the  people  need;  and  education  directed 
and  controlled  by  the  people.  Occasionally  in 
America  we  find  protests  uttered  against  universal 
education;  occasionally  sporadic  efforts  in  the 
South  to  lessen  education  for  the  negroes;  occa- 
sionally some  man  saying  in  the  North  that  we 
have  carried  our  common -school  system  too  far, 
and  are  educating  too  many,  or  are  giving  them 
too  large  an  education.  But  these  protests  pass 
by  as  idle  wind  which  people  heed  not.  On  the 
whole,  the  great  educational  movement  goes  for- 


318 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


ward,  and  the  whole  tendency  of  the  last  fifty 
years  has  been  to  widen  our  educational  system 
both  in  its  curriculum  and  in  its  constituency. 
This  has  been  done  not  only  by  public  state  dona- 
tions, but  by  private  benefactions,  until  we  have 
built  up,  not  only  the  largest  and  best  public- 
school  system  of  the  world,  but  also,  and  in  an  in- 
credibly short  time,  universities  whose  doors  are 
open  to  men  of  all  classes  and  all  conditions. 

Democracy  is  also  religion  for  the  people,  and 
in  all  its  institutional  forms  administered  and  con- 
trolled by  the  people ;  that  is,  religion  not  for  an 
elect,  not  for  a  few  special  white-robed  saints,  not 
for  a  few  specially  endowed  visionaries,  not  for 
those  who  are  able  to  shut  themselves  out  from 
life  in  convents  or  monasteries.  We  believe,  or 
are  rapidly  coming  to  believe,  that  religion  is  of 
such  a  character  that  it  can  enter  into  the  shop 
and  the  store,  into  the  parlor  and  the  school-room, 
into  all  the  common  life  of  the  common  people. 
It  is  not  life  set  apart  from  common  vocations  for 
special  places  and  special  days ;  it  is  right  living. 
We  are  also  coming  to  believe  that,  as  religion  is 
for  all  the  people,  so  it  is  to  be  administered  by  all 
the  people;  that  the  creeds  are  not  to  be  framed 
for  them  by  the  saints  or  scholars  of  the  past,  nor 
by  the  saints  or  scholars  of  the  present,  but  that 
the  people  are  to  do  their  own  thinking,  and  work 
out  their  own  results,  and  formulate  those  results  for 
themselves ;  that  as  their  creeds  are  to  be  framed 
by  the  people,  so  their   religious  institutions, 


SAFEGUARDS 


319 


whether  ecclesiastical  or  non -ecclesiastical,  how- 
ever administered,  are  to  be,  in  the  last  analysis, 
controlled  and  supported  by  the  people ;  the  priests 
and  the  pastors  are  the  servants  of  the  people,  not 
their  masters. 

This  broader  democracy  is  triumphant  in  Amer- 
ica; still,  perhaps,  to  win  its  final  victory  in  in- 
dustry, but  having  won  it  in  the  realm  of  politics, 
of  education,  and  of  religion.  Democracy  per- 
vades society  as  well  as  government,  and  a  revo- 
lution that  would  change  the  government  must 
change  the  religious  spirit,  the  educational  spirit, 
and  the  industrial  spirit  as  well  as  the  political 
forms.  A  political  organism,  simply,  may  be 
easily  changed;  but  the  life  of  a  nation  is  not 
easily  changed,  and  the  life  of  the  American  peo- 
ple, not  merely  the  form  of  the  nation,  is  demo- 
cratic. A  pyramid  resting  on  its  top  must  be 
perpetually  propped;  a  pyramid  resting  on  its 
base  cannot  easily  be  overthrown.  The  democracy 
of  America  rests  on  its  base:  it  is  a  democracy 
not  merely  of  politics;  it  is  a  democracy  religious, 
educational,  social,  industrial. 

Moreover,  this  democracy,  thus  political,  indus- 
trial, educational,  social,  and  religious,  has  brought 
with  it  a  great  degree  of  diffused  happiness. 
There,  is  certainly  no  people  on  the  globe,  except, 
perhaps,  the  equally  democratic  communities  of 
Australia  and  New  Zealand,  where  happiness  is 
so  general  as  in  America;  where  there  are  so 
many  happy  homes ;  where  there  is  so  little  misery. 


320 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


As  we  have  already  seen,  nearly  one  half  of  the 
families  of  the  United  States  own  the  real  estate 
they  occupy,  and  a  very  large  proportion  of  the 
remainder  have  property  in  money  or  bonds  or 
stocks,  or  hope  to  have  money  in  property  of  some 
sort  or  other  which  presently  they  can  put  into 
real  estate.  With  very  rare  exceptions  these  men, 
whether  they  own  or  hope  to  own  property,  are  by 
the  possession  or  by  the  hope  made  conservative; 
they  desire  to  keep  what  they  have,  they  fear  to 
lose  what  they  anticipate.  Eadicalism,  therefore, 
in  the  United  States  gets  little  support  from  the 
common  people.  The  socialism  which  multiplies  its 
adherents  in  Germany  has  few  adherents  in  Amer- 
ica, and  is  a  losing  rather  than  a  gaining  cause. 
When  appeals  are  made  —  as  sometimes  they  are  — 
to  class  feeling,  they  fall  either  on  deaf  ears  or  more 
likely  on  ears  that  are  very  alert,  rousing  the  wiU 
and  stimulating  the  purpose  to  put  at  once  an  end 
to  every  such  dangerous  and  inflammable  endeavor. 
The  American  people  are  conservative,  because 
the  great  body  of  the  American  people  have  every- 
thing to  lose  and  nothing  to  gain  by  any  promised 
revolution.  They  are  careless;  they  allow  spo- 
radic mobs;  they  shrug  their  shoulders  at  the  re- 
port of  such  mobs,  believing  that  the  disease  will 
cure  itself,  that  the  flame  will  burn  itself  out. 
But  whenever  the  mob  shows  signs  of  strength 
such  as  really  threatens  the  well-being  of  the  com- 
munity, the  nation  is  alert  and  its  action  is  quick, 
vigorous,  determined,  and  effective. 


SAFEGUARDS 


321 


This  democracy  which  has  thus  changed  not 
merely  the  form  of  government,  but  which  has 
changed  the  nature  of  education  and  even  the 
offices  and  aims  of  religion,  has  also  made  great 
changes  in  the  individual  character.  Something 
of  the  American  character  is  due  to  climate ;  some- 
thing to  Anglo-Saxon  blood;  but  a  great  deal  is 
due  to  American  —  that  is,  democratic  —  institu- 
tions. For  democracy  not  only  tends  to  produce 
the  conservative  spirit  by  its  distribution  of  wealth 
and  of  happiness,  it  also  tends  to  produce  the 
hopeful  spirit  by  the  eager  expectation  which  it 
inspires  in  all  men.  Nearly  every  man  in  America 
expects  to  be  better  oft'  to-morrow  than  he  was 
yesterday,  or,  if  he  does  not  expect  this  for  him- 
seK,  he  anticipates  it  for  his  child.  He  looks 
toward  a  better  future  for  himself  or  for  those  who 
are  dependent  on  him.  Thus  the  prevailing  spirit 
of  the  American  people  is  one  of  energy,  of  enter- 
prise, of  hopefuhiess,  even  of  audacity.  And  this 
spirit  of  energy,  of  enterprise,  of  hopefulness,  and 
of  audacity  pervades  all  classes.  If  one  will  take 
the  trouble  to  visit  the  slums  of  London  and  inves- 
tigate a  little  by  personal  observation  the  charac- 
ter of  those  who  live  in  the  slums  of  London,  and 
then  will  visit  the  slums  of  New  York  and  investi- 
gate a  little  by  personal  observation  the  character 
of  the  people  who  live  in  the  slums  of  New  York, 
he  will  come  away  from  his  comparative  study 
having  perceived  that  while  the  people  in  New 
York  are  perhaps  not  better  housed  than  in  Lon- 


322 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


don,  nor  the  filth  less,  nor  the  drunkenness  less, 
nor  the  licentiousness  less,  and  the  government 
is  in  some  respects  inferior,  in  London  the  men 
have  come  down  from  better  conditions  into  more 
degraded  ones;  they  are  on  the  down  grade,  and 
are  without  hope  for  themselves  or  their  children ; 
in  New  York  they  have  come  up  out  of  worse  con- 
ditions into  better  ones ;  they  are  on  the  up  grade, 
and  are  full  of  hope  for  themselves  and  for  their 
children.  Whether  in  the  Chinese  quarter,  or 
the  Italian  quarter,  or  the  Hungarian  quarter,  or 
the  Kussian  Jew  quarter,  the  inspiration  of  hope 
is  in  the  hearts  of  these  people  even  in  the  slums. 
And  when  we  get  out  of  the  great  cities  into  the 
manufacturing  towns,  or  into  the  great  prairies  of 
the  West,  the  faces  are  set  toward  the  future  and 
the  eyes  are  bright  with  expectation  of  coming 
prosperity. 

Paul's  statement.  We  are  saved  by  hope,  is  as 
true  for  society  as  for  the  individual.  It  is  despair 
that  is  the  inspiration  of  revolution.  When  men 
can  see  nothing  better  for  themselves,  and  nothing 
better  for  their  children,  in  present  conditions, 
they  are  ready  to  take  up  arms  to  change  the  con- 
ditions; when  the  conditions  themselves  inspire 
hope  of  betterment  for  themselves,  for  their  neigh- 
bors, and  for  their  children,  they  are  ready  to  take 
up  arms  against  any  man  who  proposes  to  destroy 
those  conditions  on  the  chance  that  he  can  create 
better  ones.  Democracy  is  more  than  a  form  of 
government,  it  is  more  even  than  a  social  order, 


SAFEGUARDS 


323 


it  is  a  spirit;  a  spirit,  first  of  all,  of  hopefulness, 
of  resultant  energy  and  activity,  and  therefore  of 
self-respect.  What  Christianity  said  to  the  f reed- 
men  and  the  slaves  in  the  first  century,  democracy 
has  said  to  the  poor  in  Europe;  You  are  men. 
On  this  affirmation  of  their  manhood  it  has  based 
the  invitation,  Come  to  America  and  you  will  find 
a  chance  to  develop  your  manhood.  Coming  to 
America,  they  have  found  all  industries  open  to 
them,  the  school-room  open  to  their  children,  and 
presently  the  ballot  put  into  their  hand.  What- 
ever evil  may  have  come  from  excess  of  immigra- 
tion, whatever  evil  may  have  come  from  a  too 
widely  extended  ballot,  there  has  grown  out  of  it 
the  development  of  self-respect  in  the  men  who 
have  been  thus  treated  on  a  plane  of  industrial 
and  political  equality. 

It  is  this  tendency  of  democracy  in  America  to 
appeal  to  the  self-respect  of  men  which  develops 
in  America  its  self-conceit;  and  it  is  probably 
true  that  we  are  the  most  self -conceited  people  on 
the  face  of  the  globe.  But  self-conceit  is  the  de- 
fect of  our  virtue,  and  self-esteem  is  a  very  neces- 
sary virtue.  It  is  true  that  self-esteem,  unmodi- 
fied, tends  to  isolate  each  man  from  his  neighbor. 
But  democracy  develops  mutual  esteem,  as  well  as 
self-esteem;  it  develops  in  man  the  tendency  to 
respect  the  opinion  of  his  fellow  man;  for  it  makes 
his  fellow  man  his  equal.  Thus  two  men  laboring 
together  in  the  factory  to-day  do  not  know  who 
may  be  to-morrow  a  foreman,  or  ten  years  from 


324 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


now  the  capitalist  in  control  of  the  factory.  In- 
dustry, education,  social  life,  religion,  as  they  ex- 
ist in  America,  tend  to  make  us  have  respect  one 
for  another. 

Out  of  this  grows  public  opinion,  and  a  great 
respect  for  public  opinion ;  sometimes  a  too  great 
respect  for  public  opinion ;  sometimes  a  belief  in 
what  Mr.  Bryce  has  called  "the  infallibility  of 
the  majority,"  a  belief  that  our  fellow  men  when 
going  together  cannot  go  wrong.  But  this  again 
is  the  defect  of  our  virtue.  Our  virtue  is  a  com- 
mon life  in  which  we  are  bound  together,  not 
merely  by  a  ballot-box,  a  representative  system,  a 
form  of  government,  but  by  the  facts  that  we  have 
been  educated  together  in  the  same  school,  that 
we  labor  together  without  recognized  class  distinc- 
tions in  the  same  industries.  No  man  knows  who 
will  rise  to  a  higher  stage  in  the  hierarchy  of  in- 
dustry ;  every  other  man's  opinion  counts  or  may 
count  for  as  much  as  our  own ;  in  order  to  get  the 
other's  opinion  to  weigh  upon  our  side  in  politics, 
we  must  argue  with  him  as  a  reasonable  man,  we 
must  treat  him  as  though  he  were  guided  by  intel- 
lectual and  moral  principles.  Thus  democracy  is 
not  only  in  theory  a  brotherhood,  but  it  tends  to 
produce  a  true  brotherhood,  by  creating  that  spirit 
of  self-esteem  which  is  one  of  the  foundations  of 
personal  character,  and  that  spirit  of  mutual  es- 
teem which  is  one  of  the  foundations  of  organized 
society. 

These  tendencies  enter  into  other  than  our  for- 


SAFEGUARDS 


325 


mally  organized  institutions  —  they  enter  into  our 
homes.  In  Bunyan's  "Pilgrim's  Progress"  the 
pilgrim  is  taken  into  the  Interpreter's  house  and 
shown  a  fire  burning  in  the  grate.  Beelzebub  is 
throwing  water  upon  the  fire,  and  the  more  water 
he  throws  upon  the  fire  the  higher  leap  up  the 
flames.  The  pilgrim  cannot  understand  this  phe- 
nomenon until  the  Interpreter  takes  him  to  the 
other  side  of  the  partition,  where  he  sees  an  angel 
feeding  the  flames  with  oil,  before  unobserved.  In 
our  homes  the  flames  of  patriotism,  of  purity,  of 
the  higher  life,  are  being  secretly  fed.  Our  homes 
are  not  all  they  ought  to  be,  but,  nevertheless, 
there  are  comparatively  speaking  few  homes  in 
America  in  which,  on  the  whole,  the  influence  is 
not  for  the  higher  and  the  better  living.  For 
this  reason  a  great  many  fathers  who  never  go  to 
church  are  very  desirous  that  their  children  should 
go  to  Sunday-school.  For  this  reason  a  great 
many  men  and  women  who  are  ill  educated  them- 
selves are  determined  that  their  children  shall  go 
to  the  public  school. 

Some  years  ago  there  was  a  man  in  New  York 
who  had  the  newspaper  reputation  of  being  the 
wickedest  man  in  the  city.  He  became  a  news- 
paper sensation,  and,  with  some  companions,  I 
went  down  in  my  college  days  to  make  him  a  call. 
We  were  cordially  welcomed,  and  had  an  inter- 
view. He  had  two  sons.  One  of  them,  he  told 
us,  "  is  not  very  bright,  but  he  is  a  good  boy,  and 
I  have  sent  him  up  to  his  grandfather's  to  study. 


326 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


and  he  's  going  to  be  a  minister.  The  other  is  as 
smart  as  a  steel  trap."  He  stood  this  other  boy 
on  the  table  before  us  to  give  us  a  declamation. 
"He's  going  into  politics,"  he  said.  I  asked, 
"Where  will  he  get  his  education?  Here?" 
"Oh,  no;  just  as  soon  as  he  is  old  enough  I  shall 
send  him  away  from  this  place  to  a  boarding- 
school."  What  became  of  the  boys  I  do  not 
know;  whether  the  education  the  father  planned 
for  them  made  of  one  of  them  a  minister  and  the 
other  a  United  States  Senator  I  cannot  tell;  but 
this  I  know,  that  the  father,  who  kept  one  of  the 
lowest  and  worst  dens  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
desired  a  higher  and  better  life  for  his  boys  than 
he  had  himself. 

While  thus  our  homes  are  feeding  more  or  less 
effectively  the  higher  life  in  the  community,  our 
great  educational  systems  are  doing  much  in  the 
same  direction.  I  have  already  in  this  course  of 
lectures  criticised  our  public-school  system  as  in- 
adequate, especially  in  the  one  direction  of  moral 
culture.  But  in  spite  of  this  defect,  which  we  are 
gradually  learning  to  be  a  defect,  our  public-school 
system  is  not  only  an  intellectual,  it  is  also  a  moral 
educator.  Let  any  man  to-morrow  morning  walk 
down  one  of  the  streets  of  any  of  our  great  cities  in 
the  vicinity  of  one  of  its  public  schools,  let  him  see 
the  children  hastening  to  school,  not  with  the  lag- 
gard steps  which  Shakespeare  attributed  to  school- 
children, but  with  eager  and  glad  faces;  or  let 
him,  later  in  the  day,  watch  those  same  children 


SAFEGUARDS 


327 


as  they  come  out  from  school,  and  see  them  carry- 
ing their  too  heavy  load  of  books  home  for  study, 
—  or  pretended  study,  —  and  then  let  him  try  to 
estimate  the  value  of  this  education  as  it  is  carried 
on  in  town  and  country  in  every  state  in  the 
Union.  With  all  its  deficiencies  and  with  all  its 
defects  and  errors,  I  know  not  how  any  American 
can  look  on  that  sight  and  doubt  that  fi"om  this 
public-school  system  is  going  forth  an  influence  to 
make  worthy  citizens  of  America.  Had  I  the  elo- 
quence of  an  orator,  I  would  like  to  stop  here  to 
pay  the  tribute  that  is  due  to  the  great  army  of 
teachers  who  are  pursuing  their  work,  often  with 
little  salary,  often  in  inconvenient  quarters,  often 
with  inadequate  equipment,  often  with  what  is 
worst  of  all,  suppression  of  their  energies  and  their 
activities  by  the  great  machine  of  which  they  are 
a  part  and  which  does  not  give  them  the  liberty 
they  ought  to  have.  I  would  like  to  stop  and  pay 
a  tribute  to  this  uncanonized  sainthood  of  Amer- 
ica; if  they  have  not  the  cross  worn  on  the  bosom, 
they  deserve  the  crown  given  by  the  people. 

Another  influence  making  for  the  better  life  of 
America,  and  for  its  permanence,  is  that  proceed- 
ing from  our  literature  —  and  from  our  cheap 
literature.  Many  years  ago,  when  the  phrase 
"dime  novel"  was  a  stigma,  Mr.  Fletcher  Harper, 
of  the  firm  of  Harper  &>  Brothers,  said  to  me :  "  I 
may  not  live  to  see  the  day,  but  you  will,  when 
the  best  English  classics  will  be  sold  in  America 
for  a  dime."    I  have  lived  to  see  it!    No  man  in 


328 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


America  to-day  need  be  without  a  library  worth 
the  reading.  The  library  may  be  poorly  bound 
and  ill  printed,  but  it  will  contain  the  noblest 
thoughts  of  the  noblest  thinkers.  There  are  few 
so  poor  that  they  cannot  have  within  their  own 
home  a  better  collection  of  literature  than  our 
grandfathers  of  very  considerable  means  were  able 
to  possess.  This  tendency  toward  a  higher  type 
of  literature  seems  to  me,  from  all  I  can  learn 
from  inquiry,  to  be  widespread  and  substantially 
imiversal.  A  few  years  ago  I  was  in  conversation 
with  Mr.  Poole,  whom  many  will  know  as  the 
editor  of  "Poole's  Index,"  and  who  was  the  libra- 
rian of  the  great  Chicago  Library.  Mr.  Poole 
said  to  me  substantially,  "It  is  the  common  thing 
for  shop-girls  to  come  into  this  library  to  get 
books,  and  begin  with  Miss  Southworth,  and  then 
follow  successively  with  E.  P.  Roe,  Walter  Scott, 
Charles  Dickens,  Thackeray,  George  Eliot,  and 
then  some  of  the  best  histories  and  some  of  the 
best  essays."  I  fell  into  conversation  a  3'ear  or 
two  ago  with  a  gentleman  traveling  on  a  train, 
who  introduced  himself  to  me  as  a  representative 
of  the  American  News  Company.  He  said  that 
ten  or  fifteen  years  ago  he  was  chiefly  selling 
through  the  country  a  cheap,  poor  literature ;  to-day 
he  found  the  greatest  demand  to  be  for  the  highest 
and  the  best.  It  is  a  question  what  is  the  ultimate 
effect  of  what  we  call  sensational  literature. 
That  it  sometimes  degenerates  and  deteriorates 
the  mind,  I  do  not  doubt;  but,  on  the  whole,  I 


SAFEGUARDS 


329 


believe  that  even  the  sensational  literature  teaches 
people  to  read;  and  when  they  have  learned  to 
read,  they  generally  learn  to  read  what  is  better, 
though  very  gradually. 

Next  to  literature  as  an  educative  influence  in 
America  is  the  press.  It  is  as  customary  for  min- 
isters and  platform  orators  to  jeer  at  newspapers 
as  it  is  for  newspapers  to  jeer  at  ministers  and 
platform  orators;  but  despite  many  and  serious 
defects  in  the  American  press,  it  renders  us  one 
great  service  —  it  holds  the  mirror  up  to  American 
life,  and  shows  us  what  that  life  is.  It  does  not 
always  show  it  in  right  proportions.  The  mirror 
is  not  always  a  well-formed  mirror ;  it  is  sometimes 
like  one  of  those  convex  or  concave  mirrors  that 
stand  in  the  agricultural  fairs  —  that  present  your 
face  so  out  of  proportion  that  you  do  not  recognize 
yourself  when  you  look  in  it.  Nevertheless  the 
press  does  bring  American  people  to  self-conscious- 
ness. If  we  do  not  like  the  records  of  vice  and 
crime,  of  ignorance  and  poverty,  which  we  read  in 
our  newspapers,  let  us  change  the  life.  If,  when 
we  look  in  the  looking-glass,  the  face  is  dirty,  it 
is  the  face  we  need  to  wash,  not  the  looking-glass. 
The  American  press,  though  defective  in  leader- 
ship, though  it  appeals  too  much  to  the  sensa- 
tional, though  it  lacks  in  seriousness,  sobriety,  ear- 
nestness, conscience,  —  qualities  which  it  ought  to 
possess  and  which  I  trust  it  will  yet  possess  in  the 
future,  —  does  one  great  educative  work :  it  brings 
the  whole  history  of  yesterday  before  us.    I  am 


330 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


glad  that  it  brings  the  history  of  the  bad  as  well 
as  of  the  good.  We  do  not  want  in  America  a 
press  which  only  portrays  our  virtues  and  forgets 
our  vices.  An  index  expurgatorius  administered 
by  one  carefully  selected  tribunal  is  a  very  doubt- 
ful advantage  to  the  intellectual  and  moral  well- 
being  of  the  world;  an  index  expurgatorius  ad- 
ministered in  every  newspaper  office  through  the 
country,  shutting  off  what  the  editor  thinks  we 
,  ought  not  to  read,  and  allowing  us  only  to  know 
what  he  thinks  we  ought  to  read,  would  be  a  very 
poorly  censored  press  indeed.  Let  us  have  from 
the  press  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  —  also  — 
nothing  but  the  truth. 

It  is  a  question  much  debated  whether  our  poli- 
tics are  not  deteriorating;  perhaps  you  may  sus- 
pect me  of  being  an  optimist  when  I  say  that  I 
think,  on  the  whole,  the  American  elections  are  a 
gi-eat  preservative  of  American  life. 

In  the  first  place,  our  general  suffrage,  with  all 
the  perils  it  has  brought,  furnishes  a  safety-valve, 
and  a  very  valuable  and  important  safety-valve. 
Ignorant  voting,  it  is  said,  is  a  peril  to  the  com- 
munity; so  it  is;  but  it  is  a  fair  question  whether 
a  great  ignorant  population  that  cannot  vote  is  not 
quite  as  great  a  peril  to  the  community.  The 
peril  is  primarily  in  the  ignorance,  only  secondarily 
in  the  voting.  The  Revolution  of  France  was  due 
to  the  fact  that  the  great  under-population  of 
France  had  no  remedy  in  their  hands  but  the  rem- 
edy of  a  violent  revolution.    England  came  near 


SAFEGUARDS 


331 


to  a  similar  revolution  in  the  great  Chartist  move- 
ment, and  escaped  it  by  extending  the  suffrage. 
When  a  man  has  the  ballot,  he  will  not  resort  to 
the  bullet.  The  anarchists  in  Chicago  are  wise 
in  their  day  and  generation  in  urging  their  fol- 
lowers not  to  vote,  and  in  insisting  to  them  that 
voting  does  them  no  good.  The  fact  that  a  dis- 
contented minority  can  express  its  will  at  the 
polls  is  itself  a  protection  against  the  discontented 
minority.  Americans  generally  are  willing  to  let 
the  majority  rule,  so  long  as  the  minority  have  an 
opportunity  for  free  discussion  and  the  free  ex- 
pression of  their  conviction. 

These  elections  not  only  furnish  a  safety-valve, 
they  also  furnish  a  great  education.  What  we 
call  a  campaign"  is  really  a  great  debate.  The 
whole  American  people  gather  together  to  dis- 
cuss questions  which  in  an  undemocratic  commu- 
nity would  be  left  to  be  settled  by  a  few  experts. 
The  result  of  this  discussion  is  the  development  of 
intelligence  and  of  character.  If  a  man  has  but 
little  judgment,  the  way  to  give  him  more  is  to 
bid  him  exercise  what  little  he  has;  and  this  is 
what  we  do  in  every  political  campaign.  Four  or 
five  years  ago  throughout  the  West  night-schools 
were  organized  by  the  two  political  parties  for  the 
discussion  of  the  financial  problem;  and  out  of 
these  night-schools  grew  an  understanding  of  cur- 
rency questions  such  as  never*  before  had  existed 
in  America.  Every  great  election  is  an  edu- 
cation; we  go  to  school  every  four  years  in  the 


332  THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


nation,  every  two  years  in  the  state.  Perhaps  it 
would  be  as  well  if  the  school  terms  were  shorter 
and  did  not  come  so  often;  nevertheless,  though 
inconvenient,  they  are  great  educators. 

Moreover,  in  these  elections  a  comparatively 
small  number  of  conservative  men  hold  the  balance 
of  power.  Even  when  an  election  is  carried  by 
an  apparently  overwhelming  majority,  the  major- 
ity is  rarely  more  than  five  per  cent.  This  five 
per  cent,  of  voters  which  may  turn  the  scale  one 
way  or  the  other  is  always,  in  the  last  analysis, 
made  up  of  men  who  hesitate  between  the  two 
parties;  they  determine  the  election,  and  because 
they  determine  the  election,  their  judgment  and 
that  of  those  whom  they  represent  must  be  taken 
account  of  by  those  who  are  carrying  on  the  gov- 
ernment. If  in  the  last  election  Mr.  Bryan  had 
been  elected,  he  would  have  had  to  take  account 
of  those  gold  Democrats  who  voted  for  him  in 
spite  of  his  free-silver  policy,  and  of  those  Ameri- 
cans who  voted  for  him  with  the  belief  that  we 
cannot  leave  the  Philippines  until  liberty,  justice, 
and  order  are  established  there.  Similarly  Mr. 
McKinley  must  pay  regard  to  those  who  voted  for 
him  because  they  could  not  accept  the  free-silver 
policy  of  Mr.  Bryan,  and  are  yet  opposed  to  the 
commercial  spirit  in  government,  or  because  they 
were  not  willing  to  leave  the  Philippines  to  them- 
selves, though  they  are  intensely  hostile  to  the  es- 
tablishment of  an  imperialistic  or  quasi-imperial- 
istic government  either  at  home  or  abroad.  The 


SAFEGUARDS 


333 


people  are  never  as  radical  as  their  radical  leaders; 
the  voters  never  go  as  far  as  the  men  who  speak 
on  the  stump  to  get  the  applause  of  the  citizens 
who  listen.  In  all  great  engines  there  is  what  is 
called  the  "governor  "  —  two  revolving  balls  which, 
rising  and  falling,  regulate  the  pressure  of  steam 
and  so  the  speed  of  the  engine.  This  five  per 
cent,  of  voters  is  the  automatic  governor  in  our 
elections  which  prevents  us  from  running  into  one 
extreme  or  another  in  our  public  life. 

Our  churches  are  another  great  factor  in  the 
safeguarding  of  democratic  institutions.  Whether 
they  possess  the  power  or  the  influence  which  they 
once  possessed  is  a  question  not  necessary  here  to 
discuss,  but  I  believe  they  possess  a  greater  power 
in  democratic  America  than  they  do  in  any  coun- 
try where  they  are  patronized  and  supported  by 
the  state.  The  power  of  the  minister  who  speaks 
Sunday  after  Sunday  to  congregations  gathered 
there,  and  who  can  speak  on  the  great  moral 
themes  that  concern  the  nation  without  being 
either  Democratic  or  Republican,  Populist  or  Pro- 
hibitionist, can,  if  he  will,  so  speak  as  to  send 
men  back  to  the  polls  with  a  higher  conscience,  a 
greater  regard  for  purity,  a  greater  purpose  to 
serve  their  country  well.  The  influence  of  all  the 
clergy  of  the  country  in  this  direction  is  one  not 
easy  to  overestimate.  Nor  does  the  Christian  re- 
ligion express  itself  only  through  churches  and 
ministers.  If  indeed  the  church  is  losing  its 
power,  it  may  be  only  that  the  Christian  religion 


334 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


may  gain  in  its  power.  If  the  alabaster  box  is 
being  broken  only  that  the  odor  of  the  ointment 
may  break  out  and  fill  the  whole  house,  we  can 
look  on  the  result  without  regret.  Certain  it  is 
that  the  moral  and  religious  influences  which  a 
hundred  years  ago  went  almost  exclusively  from 
ministers  and  through  churches  are  now  diffused 
through  newspapers,  magazines,  periodicals,  and 
personal  gatherings  to  an  extent  never  before 
known. 

All  these  influences  are  tending  to  make  out 
of  heterogeneous  materials  a  homogeneous  people, 
filled  with  a  passionate  patriotism.  There  is  no 
people  that  love  their  country  more  than  the  Amer- 
ican people,  and  in  America  no  people  that  love 
their  country  more  than  the  foreign  immigrants 
who  have  come  here  seeking  for  the  broader  op- 
portunity and  the  higher  life.  These  men,  who 
have  broken  away  from  old  associations  and  old 
traditions,  who  have  sacrificed  sentiment  and  en- 
dured poverty  and  privation  that  they  might  come 
to  an  America  that  would  treat  them  like  men, 
give  them  the  education  of  men,  give  them  the 
opportunities  of  men  in  industry,  give  them  the 
liberty  of  men  in  the  church,  and  give  them  a 
share  with  other  men  in  the  control  and  direction 
of  the  destinies  of  their  nation  —  these  German 
immigrants,  Irish  immigrants,  Italian  immigrants, 
Hungarian  immigrants,  love  America.  Nor  have 
we  thus  far  found  it  difficult  —  nor  shall  we  in  the 
future  —  to  bring  them  into  harmony  with  that 


SAFEGUARDS 


335 


great  brotherhood  which  is  the  essential  spirit  of 
American  iostitutions. 

Democracy  i^not  merely  a  political  theory,  it  is 
not  merely  a  social  opinion ;  it  is  also  a  profound 
religious  faith.  May  I  phrase  it  as  it  exists  in 
my  own  experience?  I  believe  in  man  because  I 
believe  in  God;  I  believe  in  God  because  I  believe 
in  man.  I  believe  in  humanity  because  I  see  God 
in  all  men;  I  believe  in  God  because  in  all  hu- 
manity I  see  something  of  his  illumination,  some 
reflection  of  his  image,  some  sign  of  his  sonship, 
some  promise  of  his  revelation.  This  one  fun- 
damental faith  in  the  Fatherhood  of  God  and  in 
the  universal  brotherhood  of  man,  which  is  the 
essence  of  democracy,  is  more  important  as  the 
basis  of  democracy  than  past  history,  more  im- 
portant than  political  or  industrial  or  educational 
or  religious  institutions,  more  important  than  the 
influence  of  the  individual,  more  important  than 
home  or  church  or  state  or  popular  elections. 

What  this  faith  involves  and  what  it  anticipates 
as  the  ultimate  goal  of  democracy  will  be  the  sub- 
ject of  the  next  and  closing  lecture  in  this  series. 


LECTURE  XII 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCKACY 

Democracy,  as  it  has  been  defined  in  these 
lectures  is  Social  Christianity,  that  is,  it  is  the 
product  which  results  or  wiU  eventually  result 
from  applying  to  society  the  precepts  and  princi- 
ples inculcated  by  tlesus  Christ.  Therefore  in  the 
teachings  of  Jesus  Christ  are  we  to  look  for  the 
goal  of  democracy. 

Jesus  Christ  began  his  ministry  by  declaring 
that  the  Kingdom  of  God,  initiated  by  Moses  and 
foretold  in  its  consummation  by  the  prophets,  was 
at  hand.  He  gathered  a  few  disciples  about  him 
to  help  him  while  he  lived,  and  to  carry  on  his 
work  of  revival  and  reconstruction  after  his  death. 
He  made  clear  to  them  what  this  work  was,  by  his 
constant  use  of  the  phrase  "kingdom  of  God,"  or 
"kingdom  of  heaven,"  and  by  the  petition  which 
he  taught  to  his  followers,  "Thy  Kingdom  come, 
thy  will  be  done  in  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven."  He 
came  not  primarily  to  prepare  men  for  a  kingdom 
in  heaven,  but  to  inspire  them  with  the  spirit  of 
heaven  on  the  earth.  To  borrow  a  figure  from 
the  one  disciple,  who  of  those  who  companioned 
Christ  on  earth  understood  him  best,  the  Kingdom 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  337 


of  God  is  like  a  city  which  descends  out  of  heaven, 
but  to  abide  on  the  earth  as  the  dwelling-place 
alike  for  God  and  for  men,  that  God  may  be  with 
men.  That  the  object  of  Christ's  coming  was  not 
to  enable  a  few  men  to  escape  from  a  lost  world, 
as  Bunyan's  Christian  escaped  from  the  City  of 
Destruction,  but  the  creation  of  a  new  earth 
wherein  dwelleth  righteousness,  is  evident  from 
even  a  casual  study  of  Christ's  teachings. 

There  are  five  great  discourses  of  Jesus  Christ,, 
which  correlated  with  one  another  make  clear  the 
generic  purpose  of  his  ministry.  The  first  of 
these  discourses  is  his  sermon  at  Nazareth,  the 
first  public  sermon  of  which  we  have  any  record. 
He  stood  up  in  the  synagogue,  it  is  said,  and  read 
from  the  prophet  Isaiah  the  prophecy :  "  The  spirit 
of  the  Lord  God  is  upon  me,  because  he  hath 
anointed  me  to  preach  glad  tidings  to  the  poor; 
he  hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  broken-hearted,  to 
preach  deliverance  to  the  captives,  and  recovery 
of  sight  to  the  blind,  to  set  at  liberty  them  that 
are  bruised,  to  preach  the  acceptable  year  of  the 
Lord."  "This  day,"  he  said,  ''is  this  scripture 
fulfilled  in  your  ears."  This  is  something  to  be 
fulfilled  on  the  earth.  It  is  on  the  earth  that  the 
poor  are  to  hear  glad  tidings,  and  the  broken- 
hearted are  to  be  healed,  and  the  captives  are  to 
be  delivered,  and  the  blind  are  to  be  given  their 
sight,  and  the  bruised  are  to  be  set  at  liberty. 
This  is  an  earthly  deliverance  in  that  it  is  to  be 
accomplished  on  the  earth;  a  divine  deliverance  in 


338 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


that  it  is  to  be  accomplished  by  the  spirit  of  Jeho- 
vah in  Jesus  Christ  and  his  followers. 

Jesus  Christ's  second  great  sermon  begins  where 
the  first  ends.  The  first  prophesies  the  diffusion  of 
happiness,  the  second  explains  the  secret  of  happi- 
ness :  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit ;  the  meek ; 
they  which  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness; 
the  merciful;  the  pure  in  heart;  the  peace-makers. 
Happiness — ^this  is  Christ's  second  fundamental 
principle  —  depends  upon  what  we  are,  not  upon 
where  we  are;  upon  character,  not  upon  posses- 
sions. This  is  the  theme  of  Christ's  second  great 
sermon,  and  this  principle  is  clearly  as  applicable 
to  the  terrestrial  as  to  the  celestial  sphere.  Meek- 
ness, mercifulness,  purity,  peaceableness  are  divine 
virtues  in  that  their  spring  and  source  are  divine; 
celestial  virtues,  in  that  we  must  believe  that  the 
happiness  of  heaven  depends  upon  their  existence 
and  manifestation  there;  but  they  are  earthly  vir- 
tues in  that  they  are  to  be  exercised  on  the  earth. 
They  are  the  bonds  which  bind  together  scattered 
humanity  in  a  divine  social  order;  they  are  the 
life  blood  which  animates  it  and  makes  it  a  living 
organism. 

Jesus  Christ's  third  great  sermon  is  contained 
in  the  parables  by  the  seashore.  In  this  sermon, 
or  this  series  of  sermons,  Christ  makes  it  clear 
to  his  disciples  that  the  Kingdom  of  God  which  he 
has  come  to  establish  on  the  earth  cannot  be  made 
instantaneously  by  a  miracle;  indeed  it  cannot  be 
made  at  all ;  it  must  grow,  and  growth  takes  time. 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  339 


It  is  like  a  seed  growing  secretly,  no  one  knows 
how;  it  is  like  a  seed  sown  in  all  soils,  friendly 
and  unfriendly,  and  its  fruitfulness  depends  upon 
the  soil;  it  is  like  a  seed  sown  in  a  field  where  an 
enemy  has  sown  tares,  and  grows  up  side  by  side 
with  that  which  is  not  a  part  of  the  Kingdom  of 
God ;  it  is  like  leaven  hidden  in  three  measures  of 
meal,  which  by  agitation  and  ferment  it  will  in 
time  pervade  and  radically  change.  These  para- 
bles all  illustrate  an  earthly  growth,  under  earthly 
conditions,  despite  earthly  opposition,  and  pro- 
ducing earthly  results.  The  seed  is  divine;  the 
growth  process  is  divine ;  but  the  result  is  earthly, 
that  is,  it  is  a  result  wrought  out  upon  the  earth. 

Christ's  fourth  great  sermon  is  that  on  the 
Bread  of  Life,  preached  in  the  synagogue  at 
Capernaum.  This  sermon  is  all  summed  up  in 
the  words:  "I  am  the  living  bread  that  came 
down  from  heaven.  .  .  .  As  the  living  Father 
hath  sent  me  and  I  live  by  the  Father;  so  he  that 
eateth  me,  even  he  shall  live  by  me."  Here  is 
the  same  truth:  a  kingdom  of  heaven  on  the 
earth;  a  will  of  God  done  on  the  earth.  The 
bread  comes  from  heaven,  but  it  comes  down  to 
the  earth,  and  is  eaten  on  the  earth,  and  they  that 
eat  live  by  it  on  the  earth.  Christ  who  lives  by 
the  Father  lives  on  the  earth;  the  disciples  who 
live  by  Christ  live  on  the  earth;  the  kingdom 
nurtured  by  and  dependent  on  the  divine  life  is  a 
kingdom  on  the  earth. 

In  his  fifth  great  sermon  Christ  makes  clear 


340 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  nature  of  this  kingdom  which  he  came  to 
establish,  this  new  social  order  which  he  came 
to  organize.  "Be  not  ye  called  Kabbi,"  he  says 
to  his  followers,  "for  one  is  your  Master,  even 
Christ;  and  all  ye  are  brethren.  And  call  no 
man  your  father  upon  the  earth,  for  one  is  your 
Father  which  is  in  heaven.  Neither  be  ye  called 
Master:  for  one  is  your  Master,  even  Christ. 
But  he  that  is  greatest  among  you  shall  be  your 
servant."  The  kingdom  of  God  which  Christ  has 
come  to  establish  on  the  earth  is  a  human  brother- 
hood, founded  on  and  inspired  by  faith  in  one 
Father,  over  all  and  in  all,  and  in  one  Christ, 
Master  of  all  and  Saviour  of  all. 

This  brotherhood  which  Jesus  Christ  came  to 
establish  on  the  earth  is  not  theological  or  eccle- 
siastical; that  is,  it  is  not  a  brotherhood  founded 
on  a  common  opinion  in  the  realm  of  religious 
thought.  There  is  such  a  brotherhood.  Men  of 
like  intellectual  tastes  and  opinions  naturally  affili- 
ate with  each  other:  the  artist  with  his  brother 
artist,  the  lawyer  with  his  brother  lawyer,  the 
doctor  with  his  brother  practitioner.  And  the  - 
deeper  the  convictions  and  the  more  they  enter 
into  the  spiritual  nature,  the  closer  will  be  the  fel- 
lowship. But  this  is  not  the  brotherhood  which 
Jesus  Christ  has  come  to  establish.  It  is  not 
based  on,  it  does  not  spring  from,  a  common 
creed.  A  Roman  centurion  came  to  Jesus  pray- 
ing for  the  healing  of  his  daughter ;  and  the  J ew- 
ish  elders  commended  him  as  worthy  because  he 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  341 


had  built  a  synagogue  for  them.  But  Christ  found 
in  the  centurion  something  better  than  ecclesiastical 
kinship:  "I  have  not  found,"  he  said,  "so  great 
faith,  no  not  in  Israel."  He  once  told  a  story  of 
a  heretical  Samaritan  who  helped  a  robbed  and 
wounded  traveler,  and  so  told  it  as  to  extort  even 
from  Jewish  listeners  the  confession  that  he  was 
more  truly  neighbor  to  the  man  who  fell  among 
thieves  than  were  the  orthodox  priest  and  levite 
who  passed  him  by.  To  Jesus  Christ  the  bond  of 
a  common  humanity  was  far  more  than  the  ecclesi- 
astical or  theological  bond. 

The  brotherhood  which  Jesus  Christ  came  to 
establish  is  not  founded  on  social  affinity.  It*is" 
not  a  brotherhood  of  congenial  spirits.  This  also 
is  a  real  brotherhood.  We  like,  and  we  have  a 
right  to  like,  those  who  share  our  tastes,  who  be- 
long to  our  circle,  whose  life  harmonizes  in  its  in- 
tellectual activities  and  its  social  forms  with  ours. 
But  this  was  not  the  brotherhood  Jesus  Christ 
emphasized.  Society  was  in  his  time  and  country 
divided  into  social  cliques  and  castes  far  more 
sharply  than  it  is  in  ours.  These  lines  Jesus 
Christ  habitually  disregarded.  He  might  have 
preached  to  the  lower  circles  and  no  one  would 
have  criticised  him.  But  he  treated  the  publicans 
and  sinners  as  brethren ;  he  made  social  compan- 
ions of  men  and  women  who  did  not  share  the 
political  views  of  the  aristocracy,  nor  possess  the 
social  customs  of  the  aristocracy,  nor  even  con- 
form to  the  ethical  standards  of  the  aristocracy. 


342 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


This  was  an  unpardonable  offense  in  the  eyes  of 
the  best  society  of  his  time.  The  brotherhood  he 
came  to  establish  included  men  of  all  social  circles 
as  it  included  men  of  all  religious  beliefs. 
y  This  brotherhood  which  Jesus  Christ  came  to 
establish  on  the  earth  is  not  limited  by  any  con- 
siderations of  race.  Blood  is  said  to  be  thicker 
than  water.  The  American  meeting  abroad  an 
American  recognizes  in  him  a  kinsman ;  and  in  a 
more  catholic  spirit,  the  American  recognizes  in 
the  Anglo-Saxon  in  England,  as  the  Englishman 
in  the  Anglo-Saxon  in  America,  what  Mr.  Glad- 
stone has  well  called  "  Kin  across  the  sea."  But 
brotherhood  as  interpreted  by  Christ  includes  men 
of  all  races.  The  race  prejudices  of  his  time  were 
far  greater  than  they  are  in  ours.  Christ  never 
denied'that  there  are  race  differences  and  race  in- 
equalities. He  declared  to  the  woman  of  Samaria 
that  salvation  is  of  the  Jews,  and  that  they  knew 
whom  they  worshiped,  while  the  Samaritans  did 
not.  He  told  his  disciples  that  he  was  not  sent 
except  to  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel. 
He  directed  them  to  begin  their  missionary  work 
among  their  own  people,  and  to  them  he  himself 
confined  his  own  ministry.  But  he  also  declared 
in  explicit  terms  that  the  men  and  women  of  other 
races  were  his  brethren.  The  prejudice  that  set 
them  apart  by  themselves,  as  uncared  for  by  God 
and  incapable  of  manhood,  he  condemned.  In  his 
first  recorded  sermon,  he  told  the  amazed  and 
angry  congregation  that  God  cared  for  the  Samari- 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  343 


tan  and  the  Syro -Phoenician,  and  proved  it  from 
their  own  history,  and  they  mobbed  him  for  his 
audacity. 

The  brotherhood  which  Jesus  Christ  came  to  es- 
tablish was  founded  neither  on  consanguinity,  nor 
race,  nor  congeniality  in  character,  nor  agreement 
in  opinion :  it  was  founded  on  the  one  simple  and  / 
fundamental  fact  that  God  is  the  God  and  Father 
of  the  whole  human  race,  the  Father  of  whom,  as 
Paul  says,  every  fatherhood  in  heaven  and  in  earth 
is  named.  Because  all  men  can  call  God  Father, 
because  to  all  men  Christ  is  a  Deliverer,  whether 
they  are  Caucasian,  Indian,  Chinaman,  or  Afri- 
can, whether  wise  or  foolish,  cultivated  or  unculti- 
vated, good  or  bad,  therefore  all  men  are  brethren ; 
they  are  brethren  because  one  is  their  Father 
which  is  in  heaven.  To  deny  the  Fatherhood  of 
God,  as  the  socialist  has  sometimes  done,  is  to 
deny  the  only  basis  on  which  the  brotherhood  of 
men  can  rest,  and  to  disintegrate  society  into  an- 
tagonistic races,  antagonistic  nations,  antagonistic 
classes  in  the  same  nation.  To  deny  the  brother-  ^ 
hood  of  man,  as  ecclesiasticism  has  sometimes 
done,  is  to  deny  the  Fatherhood  of  God,  and  to 
relegate  humanity  to  a  class,  a  national,  a  tribal 
or  a  race  religion,  or  to  none  at  all. 

The  primitive  church  began  in  the  faith  that 
the  risen  Christ  would  return  in  that  generation 
and  establish  by  a  miraculous  display  of  kingly 
power  this  new  theocracy.  The  Jewish  Christians 
could  not  at  once  abandon  their  Jewish  belief  that 


344 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


the  theocracy  was  to  be  a  world  kingdom  in  its 
form  and  spirit  as  well  as  in  its  dwelling-place. 
Gradually,  however,  this  hope  gave  place  to  an- 
other, that  the  Empire  of  Rome  might  be  trans- 
formed into  such  a  theocracy.  The  Apostle  John 
saw  in  a  vision  the  time  when  the  kingdoms  of 
this  world  would  become  the  kingdoms  of  our 
Lord  and  of  his  Christ.  The  bitter  persecutions 
of  the  Christians  by  pagan  Rome  destroyed  this 
hope.  Then  another  took  its  place.  The  church 
was  itself  regarded  as  the  kingdom  of  God;  the 
Pope  was  his  vicar;  loyalty  to  him  was  loyalty  to 
the  Great  King  whom  he  represented;  the  Papal 
decrees  were  regarded  as  divine  decrees,  much  as 
the  Ten  Commandments  brought  down  from  the 
mountain  by  Moses  were  regarded  as  the  laws  of 
Jehovah;  and  the  faithful,  united  in  one  creed  and 
in  one  ecclesiastical  organization,  constituted  the 
kingdom  of  God.  Corruption  entered  the  church ; 
castes  grew  up  in  it;  pagan  pomp  invaded  it. 
Then  devout  souls  separated  themselves  from  the 
world  and  from  the  church,  though  in  loyalty  to 
the  church,  and  constituted  themselves  an  impe- 
rium  in  imperio,  a  brotherhood  in  a  brotherhood, 
a  theocracy  in  the  theocracy.  Such  were  the 
Franciscan  friars,  the  Brothers  of  the  Poor,  such 
the  monastic  and  conventual  establishments  scat- 
tered throughout  Europe.  These  grew  rich,  lazy, 
corrupt,  and  lost  the  spirit  while  retaining  the 
form  of  brotherhood.  Then  at  last  despair  of  any 
kingdom  of  God  on  the  earth  took  possession  of 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  345 


the  church.  The  devout  still  prayed,  "Thy  king- 
dom come,  thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven,"  but  they  ceased  to  believe  in  their  prayer; 
they  transferred  their  hopes  from  earth  to  heaven; 
they  came  to  regard  their  life  as  but  the  prepara- 
tion for  a  kingdom  yet  to  come  in  another  and 
a  celestial  sphere ;  they  reversed  the  vision  of  St. 
John,  and  saw  a  city  rising  out  of  the  earth  and 
entering  heaven ;  they  ceased  to  teach  men  how  to 
live,  and  thought  it  their  function  chiefly  to  teach 
men  how  to  die ;  they  separated  religion  from  life, 
—  forgot  Micah's  definition  of  religion  as  doing 
justly,  loving  mercy,  and  walking  humbly  with 
God,  — forgot  Paul's  definition  of  religion  as  liv- 
ing soberly,  righteously,  and  godly  in  this  present 
world,  —  forgot  John's  declaration  that  he  that 
doeth  righteousness  is  righteous,  and  abandoning 
commerce,  trade,  politics,  and  even  education  to 
the  men  of  the  world,  retreated  to  cloisters  to 
practice  religion,  not  in  devotion  but  in  devotions, 
or  confined  their  religious  duties  to  sacred  seasons 
and  sacred  places,  and  left  their  religion  behind 
them  when  they  returned  to  the  world,  or,  with  no 
hope  of  conforming  the  world  to  the  precepts  of 
the  Master,  counted  it  sufficient  if  they  endeavored 
to  conform  their  own  lives  thereto  and  saved  them- 
selves, and  perhaps  some  others,  out  of  the  general 
wreck. 

Yet  all  the  time  God,  who  works  outside  his 
church  as  well  as  within  it,  when  and  where  and 
as  he  pleases,  was  inspiring  society,  partly  by 


346 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


means  of  the  church,  partly  by  reformers  who 
were  without  the  church,  with  aspirations  for  bro- 
therhood. Gradually  government  was  trans- 
formed, labor  was  emancipated,  wealth  was  con- 
verted from  idle  hoards  to  the  instruments  of 
active  industry,  general  comfort  was  enhanced, 
hospitals  and  orphanages  and  asylums  were  estab- 
lished and  endowed,  the  ministry  of  medicine  was 
made  available  for  the  poor  as  for  the  rich,  justice 
was  made  not  indeed  absolutely  free  nor  absolutely 
equal  to  all,  but  more  nearly  free  and  more  nearly 
equal,  public  education  was  promoted  and  fostered, 
and  by  all  these  means  the  promise  of  Jesus  Christ 
approximated  fulfillment:  the  poor  had  glad  tid- 
ings preached  to  them,  and  the  acceptable  year  of 
the  Lord  was  proclaimed. 

At  length  a  new  continent  was  discovered,  and 
a  new  world  was  opened  for  a  new  trial  of  the  ex- 
periment of  human  brotherhood.  The  Puritans 
in  New  England,  the  Presbyterians  in  New  York, 
the  Quakers  in  Pennsylvania,  the  Koman  Catho- 
lics in  Delaware,  the  Episcopalians  in  Virginia, 
the  Huguenots  in  the  Carolinas,  each  brought 
from  the  old  world  a  Christian  faith,  and  each  a 
partial  conception  of  that  kingdom  of  God  which 
is  so  great  that  no  church  can  ever  adequately 
manifest  it,  and  no  prophet  can  ever  adequately 
interpret  it.  But  they  also  brought  with  them 
from  the  old  world  corruptions  of  the  Christian 
faith,  ethical  and  social  as  well  as  doctrinal.  The 
feudalism  of  England  and  the  reactionary  and 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  ^47 


revolutionary  democracy  of  France  mingled  with 
the  fraternalism  born  of  an  imperfectly  appre- 
hended Christian  teaching  in  the  birth  of  a 
brotherhood  which  is  only  partiall}^  Christian,  and 
which  it  is  the  duty  of  the  church  to  perfect  and 
establish.  Nor  is  it  the  least  part  of  this  duty  to 
prevent  the  brotherhood  of  man  from  degenerat- 
ing into  a  mere  cant  of  politicians  and  professional 
reformers,  to  distinguish  the  brotherhood  which 
Jesus  Christ  inculcated  from  the  specious  imita- 
tions which  are  labeled  with  its  name,  and  to  apply 
its  essential  principles  to  the  solution  of  our  social 
and  national  problems. 

Tl^s  rapid  sketch  of  the  social  teachings  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  their  gradual  and  as  yet  im- 
perfect recognition  by  Christendom,  indicates  the 
goal  of  democracy.  It  is  the  reconstruction  of  ^ 
society,  so  that  it  shall  embody  these  five  princi- 
ples :  — 

I.  The  diffusion  of  happiness. 

II.  Through  the  development  of  character. 

III.  By  a  process  of  gradual  growth. 

IV.  The  secret  thereof  being  the  indwelling  of 
God  in  humanity. 

V.  The  end  thereof  being  a  brotherhood  of  man 
centred  in  God  as  the  Universal  Father. 

Let  us  consider  these  principles  as  they  appear, 
though  imperfectly  developed,  in  the  American 
Democracy  of  to-day. 

I.  The  aim  of  democracy  is  the  extension  and 
diffusion  of  happiness ;  it  purposes  to  make  happi- 


348 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


ness  universal.  For  this  reason  it  denies  the  right 
of  men  to  separate  themselves  into  classes  and 
cliques,  to  concentrate  happiness  in  the  lives  of 
the  few  and  to  leave  wretchedness  and  misery  in 
the  lives  of  the  many.  In  this  respect  democracy 
accepts  the  utilitarian  theory  of  life.  It  does  not 
accept  it  in  so  far  as  that  theory  determines  all 
questions  by  their  relation  to  happiness;  it  does 
accept  it  in  so  far  as  that  theory  declares  the  true 
end,  the  divine  end,  of  life  to  be  the  greatest  hap- 
piness of  the  greatest  number. 

There  are  four  great  material  enemies  to  human 
happiness:  war,  poverty,  pestilence,  and  famine. 
Democracy  sets  itself  resolutely  to  combat  all  four. 

Democracy  is  unalterably  opposed  to  war;  the 
military  spirit  and  the  democratic  spirit  are  essen- 
tially antagonistic  to  each  other.  Wars  may  be 
'  sometimes  necessary  —  I  believe  that  they  are 
sometimes  necessary  —  but  if  so  they  are  a  neces- 
sary evil.  The  spirit  that  regards  war  as  an  ad- 
vantage, that  desires  war  for  its  own  sake,  that 
exalts  and  glorifies  militarism,  is  in  direct  contra- 
diction to  the  spirit  of  democracy.  For  war  can 
only  be  carried  on  successfully  under  an  autocracy. 
A  nation  which  is  armed  and  equipped  for  war  is 
of  necessity  under  a  commanding  general,  and  a 
commanding  general  must  be  an  autocrat.  War 
cannot  be  carried  on  by  a  committee;  the  experi- 
ment has  been  tried  more  than  once,  and  always 
with  failure.  An  army  cannot  by  universal  suf- 
frage determine  how  a  campaign  against  an  enemy 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  349 


shall  be  conducted.  An  army  is  necessarily  an 
autocratic  organization,  and  an  armed  nation  —  a 
nation  which  is  an  armed  camp  —  is  necessarily 
autocratic.  Thus  democracy  is  inherently,  vitally, 
essentially  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  war ;  if  it  ac- 
cepts war  it  accepts  it  only  as  a  dire  and  unavoid- 
able necessity,  to  be  escaped  from  as  soon  as  may 
be  with  honor.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  demo- 
cracy has  found  its  way  to  contrivances  which 
lessen  the  danger  of  war.  It  is  for  this  reason 
that  the  most  democratic  country,  America,  con- 
trived that  federation  of  states  and  invented  that 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  which  has 
served  as  an  arbitrator  between  different  commu- 
nities, and  has  substituted  reason  for  force  as  the 
means  of  settling  interstate  controversies.  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  in  Europe  the  uprising  of 
democracy  has  preceded  the  development  if  not 
the  creation  of  international  law,  and  preceded 
the  organization  of  courts  of  arbitration  and  that 
final  consummation  of  courts  of  arbitration  —  the 
creation  of  the  international  court  at  The  Hague. 
Democracy  is  not  only  opposed  to  war,  but  demo-  \J 
cracy  has  invented  or  discovered  the  methods  by 
which  controversies  between  communities  can  be 
adjusted  more  rationally,  more  peacefully,  and 
more  in  accordance  with  human  happiness  than  by 
military  force. 

The  second  great  enemy  of  human  happiness  is 
poverty.  Democracy  does  not  believe  that  pov- 
erty is  a  necessity.    The  fundamental  tenet  of  de- 


350 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


mocracy  is  that  there  is  wealth  enough  in  the 
world  to  make  all  men  happy.  This  was  certainly 
the  tenet  of  Jesus  Christ:  "In  my  Father's  house,'* 
he  said,  through  one  of  the  characters  whom  he 
portrayed,  "is  bread  enough,  and  to  spare."  The 
world  is  the  Father's  house,  and  there  is  bread 
enough  in  the  Father's  house  for  all  the  Father's 
children.  If  any  go  hungry,  it  is  either  their  own 
fault  or  else  it  is  the  fault  of  a  vicious  social  or- 
ganization. "Come,"  said  Christ,  in  another  par- 
able, "for  all  things  are  now  ready:  go  out  into 
the  streets  and  lanes  of  the  city  and  bring  in 
hither  the  poor  and  the  maimed  and  the  halt  and 
the  blind."  And  the  servant  did  so  and  returned 
with  the .  statement,  "Still  there  is  room."  This 
lesson  Jesus  Christ  repeats  in  more  than  one  par- 
able. We  have  given  to  these  parables  a  spiritual 
interpretation,  and  doubtless  they  deserve  a  spirit- 
ual interpretation,  but  they  deserve  the  other  in- 
terpretation also.  On  their  face  they  carry  with 
them  this  great  economic  truth,  that  there  is  in 
the  world,  provided  by  the  Father,  enough  for  all 
his  children,  so  that  none  need  go  in  want. 

If  war  can  be  avoided  and  pauperism  can  be 
avoided,  the  other  two  great  evils  would  disappear 
themselves,  for  pestilence  and  famine  are  the  chil- 
dren of  war  and  pauperism.  Pestilence  has  fol- 
lowed close  upon  the  heels  of  war,  and  when  war 
has  not  produced  it  pauperism  has ;  it  has  grown 
inevitably  out  of  insanitary  conditions,  due,  not 
only  to  ignorance,  but  also  to  poverty  and  the  kind 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  351 


of  vice  which  is  connected  with  and  fostered  by- 
poverty.  Given  universal  education  and  universal 
competence,  and  pestilence  would  cease  from  the 
earth;  nor  would  famine  find  a  place  if  wealth 
were  so  equitably  distributed  that  all  men  had  suf- 
ficient for  their  own  sustenance.  Thus  democracy 
seeks  the  happiness  of  all  men,  not  only  in  its 
dreams,  but  in  its  definite  plans.  Its  progress 
thus  far  has  been  a  progress  toward  the  cessation 
of  war  and  the  substitution  of  arbitration,  and 
toward  the  division  of  wealth  and  the  end  of  pau- 
perism. Christ's  parables  are  full  of  joyousness; 
dancing,  singing,  festivity,  happiness  ripple  over 
the  surface  of  his  instructions ;  and  they  are  phases 
of  happiness  not  for  the  few,  but  for  the  all.  De- 
mocracy has  already  made  some  approximation  to 
this  broad  diffusion  of  happiness.  We  have  not 
in  America  as  many  splendid  palaces  as  in  the  old 
world,  but  we  have  more  comfortable  homes ;  we 
have  not  in  America  the  lordly  parks,  but,  save  in 
our  great  cities  and  a  few  of  our  factory  towns, 
we  have  a  little  plot  of  ground  around  the  home  of 
each  individual  tenant. 

II.  This  universal  happiness  democracy  seeks 
to  accomplish  by  the  development  of  character, 
a  principle  which  democracy  borrows  unconsciously 
from  Jesus  Christ.  It  simply  needs  to  understand 
Christ's  principles  more  clearly  and  apply  them 
more  unflinchingly. 

Jesus  Christ  gives  no  support  by  his  teaching 
to  either  communism  or  socialism.    He  does  not 


352 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


teach  with  Proudhon  that  property  is  theft;  nor 
with  Tolstoi  that  accumulation  of  property  is  sin- 
ful; nor  with  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  that  poverty  is 
a  virtue.  On  the  contrary,  he  affirms  that  in- 
equalities in  wealth  are  a  part  of  the  divine  order. 
In  the  parable  of  the  ten  talents  the  Lord  gives 
to  his  servants  in  different  measure,  to  one  five 
talents,  to  another  two  talents,  to  another  one, 
"^o  every  man  according  to  his  several  ability.'*^ 
The  notion  that  all  men  are  to  have  equal  posses- 
sions and  the  notion  that  all  men  possess  equal 
abilities  are  alike  foreign  t6  Christ's  teaching. 
Moreover,  each  man  is  to  use  his  ability  to  in- 
crease his  wealth.  The  man  who  trades  with  five 
talents  and  makes  them  ten,  and  the  man  who 
trades  with  two  talents  and  makes  them  four,  are 
commended;  the  man  who  wraps  his  one  talent  in 
a  napkin  and  adds  nothing  to  it  is  condemned.  If 
he  had  not  the  ability  to  increase  his  store,  he 
might  at  least  have  loaned  it  to  some  one  who  pos- 
sessed the  capacity  which  he  lacked.  It  is  not 
wealth  which  Christ  condemns,  nor  the  accumula- 
tion of  wealth,  but  the  hoarding  of  wealth.  The 
man  who  invests  his  money  in  fine  dresses  to  be- 
come food  for  the  moths,  or  buries  it  in  the  earth 
to  become  a  prey  to  robbers,  Christ  castigates. 
The  farmer,  who  when  his  harvests  yield  abun- 
dantly, can  think  of  nothing  better  to  do  with  his 
grain  than  to  stock  it  in  barns  for  his  own  enjoy- 
ment, he  calls  a  fool.  The  rich  man  who  spends 
it  in  clothing  himself  in  purple  and  fine  linen  and 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  353 


in  faring  sumptuously  every  day,  while  want  lies 
unrelieved  at  his  door,  he  declares  worthy  to  be 
an  outcast  in  the  world  to  come.  In  all  this  he 
condemns  not  wealth,  but  the  hoarding,  the  osten- 
tation, the  inhumanity,  which  are  the  vices  to 
which  wealth  tempts.  For  these  vices  Christ's 
remedy  is  not  the  self-imposed  poverty  practiced 
by  Francis  of  Assisi,  nor  the  common  ownership 
of  wealth  proposed  by  Fourier  and  Robert  Owen, 
nor  the  incongruous  and  unreal  admixture  of  pea- 
sant and  princely  condition  assumed  by  Tolstoi: 
Christ's  remedy  is  the  practical  application  of  the 
doctrine  that  wealth  is  a  trust,  that  every  man  is  a 
trustee,  that  all  that  he  has  and  all  that  he  is  are 
to  be  used  for  the  welfare  of  his  fellow  men ;  that 
it  is  not  the  ability  to  make  money,  but  the  ability 
to  use  it  for  the  common  welfare  that  alone  makes 
any  man  worthy  of  the  respect  of  his  fellow  citizens. 

As  little  does  Christ  give  support  to  state  so- 
cialism. State  socialism  maintains  that  the  state 
should  own  all  the  tools  and  implements  of  indus- 
try and  should  direct  and  control  all  its  operations. 
Each  individual  is  to  do  the  work  which  the  state 
allots,  and  to  accept  the  recompense  which  the 
state  awards.  That  the  state  may  be  free,  each 
individual  in  the  state  is  to  be  deprived  of  indus- 
trial freedom.  That  we  may  be  rid  of  the  domi- 
nance of  the  capitalist,  we  are  to  substitute  there- 
for the  dominance  of  the  politician.  This  was 
not  Christ's  method.  He  had  very  little  to  say 
about  the  social  organism.    Government  was  de- 


354 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


spotic,  but  he  did  not  propose  a  republic;  labor 
was  servile,  but  he  said  nothing  about  slavery. 
He  sought  to  bring  men  into  filial  relations  with 
God  and  into  fraternal  relations  with  their  fellow 
men,  to  inculcate  the  principles  of  brotherhood 
and  inspire  in  them  the  spirit  of  brotherhood; 
then  he  left  men,  guided  by  these  principles  and 
inspired  by  this  spirit,  to  make  their  own  organi- 
zations. 

Nor  does  Christ's  teaching  give  any  support  to 
that  type  of  democracy  of  which  Rousseau  is  the 
most  distinguished  prophet,  which  declares  that 
all  men  are  equal  in  natural  ability  and  therefore 
ought  to  be  equal  in  social  conditions.  Jesus 
Christ  never  taught,  by  even  remote  implication, 
the  natural  equality  of  men;  on  the  contrary,  he 
recognized  explicitly  that  some  men  are  greater 
than  others;  but  he  furnished  a  new  standard  of 
greatness  in  the  saying,  "He  that  is  greatest 
among  you  shall  be  your  servant."  In  the  social 
order  of  imperial  Rome  the  greatest  were  the  served, 
the  inferior  were  the  servants;  in  the  democracy 
of  France  there  was  neither  greatness  nor  littleness, 
neither  superior  nor  inferior,  neither  master  nor 
servant,  all  were  equals;  in  the  brotherhood  which 
Jesus  Christ  has  come  to  establish,  the  rich  are 
the  servants  of  the  poor,  the  wise  are  the  servants 
of  the  ignorant,  the  strong  are  the  servants  of  the 
weak,  the  superior  are  the  servants  of  the  inferior. 
He  that  renders  the  greatest  service  is  the  greatest 
man.    In  the  same  hour  in  which  Jesus  Christ 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  355 


washed  his  disciples'  feet,  —  a  service  usually  ren- 
dered by  the  menials  for  their  lords,  —  he  declared 
himself  the  Lord  and  Master  of  those  whose  feet 
he  had  washed. 

In  these  three  respects  democracy  has  borrowed 
its  principles  from  J esus  Christ.  It  has  sometimes 
been  inclined  to  try  the  experiments  commended 
to  it  by  Fourier,  Karl  Marx,  and  Rousseau;  but 
experience  has  confirmed  the  teachings  of  its  un- 
acknowledged Master,  and  it  has  returned  to  the 
democracy  of  Jesus  Christ.  Communism,  social- 
ism, democracy  all  seek  the  same  end  —  a  benefi- 
cent reconstruction  of  the  social  order;  but  true 
democracy  is  neither  communistic  nor  socialistic, 
but  Christian.  Socialism,  that  is  state  socialism, 
—  and  in  essential  principles  communism  and 
socialism  are  of  kin,  —  seeks  to  change  the  social 
order  without  changing  the  individuals,  democracy 
seeks  to  change  the  individuals  that  they  may 
change  the  social  order;  socialism  seeks  the  wel- 
fare of  the  individual  by  making  him  subservient 
to  society,  democracy  seeks  the  welfare  of  society 
by  making  it  subservient  to  the  individual;  social- 
ism would  make  society  free  by  destroying  the 
freedom  of  the  individual,  democracy  calls  on  so- 
ciety to  protect  the  freedom  of  the  individual  that 
society  may  be  free;  socialism  would  make  the 
state  the  owner  of  all  wealth,  democracy  would 
make  the  state  the  protector  of  individual  wealth; 
socialism  would  have  the  state  carry  on  all  the 
industries  and  would  make  ev^ry  individual  the 


356 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


servant  of  the  state,  democracy  would  make  the 
state  a  protector  of  individual  industries  and  the 
state  the  servant  of  the  individual;  socialism  puts 
the  organization  first,  the  individual  second,  de- 
mocracy puts  the  individual  first,  the  organization 
second;  socialism  expects  to  develop  the  individ- 
ual, but  chiefly  through  a  change  in  the  organi- 
zation, democracy  expects  to  develop  society,  but 
chiefly  through  the  development  of  the  individual. 
Thus  these  two,  working  to  the  same  ends,  work 
by  diametrically  opposed  methods.  The  object  of 
democracy  is,  first,  to  protect  the  rights  of  the 
individual,  next,  to  develop  the  character  of  the 
individual,  and  third,  to  teach  the  individuals  how 
to  cooperate  together  to  a  common  end. 

It  is  because  democracy  lays  this  stress  on  indi- 
vidual character  that  it  lays  stress  on  the  institu- 
tions which  develop  individual  character.  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  so  soon  as  a  state  becomes 
democratic  it  establishes  a  school  system  for  the 
education  of  the  individual.  France  becomes  de- 
mocratic, it  establishes  a  state  school  system ;  Eng- 
land becomes  democratic,  it  organizes  the  board 
school  system;  the  Northern  states  become  demo- 
cratic, they  organize  a  public  school  system;  the 
Southern  states  become  democratic,  they  organize 
a  public  school  system ;  we  wish  to  establish  self- 
governing  communities  in  Cuba,  Porto  Rico,  and 
the  Philippines,  and  contemporaneously  with  the 
organization  of  civil  government  we  organize  a 
free  school  system.    Democracy  instinctively  re- 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  357 


cognizes  the  fact  that  we  cannot  have  a  self-gov- 
erning state  without  educating  the  individuals  and 
substantially  all  the  individuals  in  the  community. 

For  the  same  reason  democracy  develops  in- 
dividualism in  religion.  With  imperialism  goes 
naturally  one  church,  one  creed,  one  ritual,  one 
ecclesiastical  order;  with  democracy  there  goes 
naturally  a  variety  of  churches,  of  creeds,  of  rit- 
uals, of  ecclesiastical  organizations,  because  de- 
mocracy insists  on  the  development  of  the  individ- 
ual, and  therefore  on  the  right  of  the  individual 
to  frame  his  own  creed,  to  worship  according  to 
his  own.  ritual,  to  organize  his  own  church.  The 
innumerable  variety  of  sects  into  which  the  church 
in  America  is  divided  is  no  accident;  it  is  the  in- 
evitable result  of  the  individualism  which  it  is  the 
object,  deliberate  or  unconscious,  of  democracy  to 
promote.  Democracy  believes  that  it  is  better  to 
have  great  men  and  little  churches  than  a  great 
church  and  little  men. 

For  this  reason  democracy  tests  everything  by 
its  relation  to  character  —  not  always  consciously, 
not  always  wisely,  but  intuitively  and  instinctively. 
It  is  thus  to-day  testing  the  churches  in  America. 
The  workingmen  are  asking,  Will  the  church  help 
us  ?  Will  it  make  us  better  men  ?  Will  it  make 
us  happier  men?  Will  it  enlarge  and  enrich  our 
life?  I  do  not  think  they  find  altogether  the  right 
answer  to  their  question,  but  they  are  justified  in 
asking  it.  The  church  can  add  to  the  glory  of 
God  only  by  adding  to  the  welfare  and  happiness 


358 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


of  his  children ;  and  if  it  fails  to  add  to  the  happi- 
ness and  welfare  of  his  children,  or  if  it  fails  to 
add  to  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  those  of  his 
children  who  most  need  to  have  their  happiness 
and  welfare  promoted,  then,  in  so  far,  the  church 
is  a  failure.  Whether  rightly  or  wrongly,  this  is 
the  test  which  democracy  applies  to  preacher,  to 
priest,  to  church,  to  religious  institutions  of  every 
kind.  So  long  as  we  have  a  democratic  America, 
so  long  it  is  certain  we  must  have  churches  that 
will  serve  the  common  people,  or  the  churches  will 
cease  to  be  supported  by  the  common  people.  De- 
mocracy measures  its  institutions  by  their  relation 
to  human  need. 

In  the  same  way  it  measures  industry.  It  tests 
every  industrial  organization  by  the  question:  Is 
it  making  good  men  and  good  women  ?  It  is  de- 
mocracy which  has  insisted  that  the  law  shall  in- 
terfere with  industrial  enterprises  which  are  not 
making  good  men  and  good  women.  It  is  demo- 
cracy which  has  insisted  that  child  labor  shaU 
cease,  that  woman  labor  shall  be  limited,  and  that 
hours  of  labor  for  all  men  shall  be  defined.  It 
is  democracy  which  protests  against  any  system  of 
labor  which  requires  a  man  to  work  twelve  hours 
out  of  the  twenty -four,  and  seven  days  out  of  the 
week.  It  is  democracy  which  insists  on  shorter 
hours  of  labor  and  larger  wages;  not  merely  for 
the  sake  of  the  larger  wages,  not  merely  for  the 
sake  of  the  shorter  hours,  but  for  the  sake  of  such 
leisure  as  will  make  development  of  the  working- 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  359 


men's  life  possible.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the 
blind,  groping,  ignorant,  often  impracticable,  and 
sometimes  revolutionary  demands  of  labor  organi- 
zations. This  is  the  spur  that  drives  them  on, 
this  the  moral  force  that  compels  them.  It  is  true 
that  wages  are  better  than  wages  ever  were  before, 
and  that  hours  of  labor  are  less  than  they  ever 
were  before.  But  it  is  also  true  that  manhood  is 
larger  than  it  ever  was  before;  that  it  needs  more 
relief  from  toil  and  more  opportunity  for  the  de- 
velopment of  the  higher  life  than  it  ever  did  be- 
fore. Democracy  measures  industry  by  its  effects 
on  character.  It  counts  that  a  poor  industrial 
system  which  grinds  up  men  and  women  in  order 
to  make  cheap  goods. 

That  American  democracy  is  not  the  same  as 
the  democracy  of  Rousseau,  that  it  adopts  as  its 
principles  not  the  falsehood  that  all  men  are  equal 
or  ought  to  be  equal,  but  the  truth  that  the  greater 
the  man  the  greater  his  obligation  of  service,  we 
shall  see  in  considering  Christ's  fifth  principle  that 
the  kingdom  of  God  is  a  brotherhood  of  men. 

III.  The  third  principle  which  Jesus  Christ  in- 
culcated is  that  the  kingdom  of  God  comes  by  a 
peaceable  process  of  growth;  in  other  words,  that 
the  hope  of  society  is  not  in  revolution  but  in  evo- 
lution. 

This  principle  is  alike  seen  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment and  in  the  New  Testament.  Both  in  Judaism 
and  in  Christianity  social  reforms  have  been  only 
gradually  wrought,  so  gradually  as  to  excite  the 


360 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


impatience  of  some  moral  reformers  and  to  pro- 
voke the  scoffing  skepticism  of  others.  In  the 
twelfth  century  before  Christ  slavery  and  poly- 
gamy were  almost  universal,  and  sacrificial  cere- 
monialism was  the  only  method  of  worshiping  the 
gods.  The  Mosaic  law  abolished  neither.  But 
slavery  was  hedged  about  with  such  restrictions 
that  by  the  time  of  Christ  slavery  had  disappeared 
from  Judaism;  polygamy  was  interpenetrated  by 
such  moral  influences  that  in  Christ's  time  the 
harem  was  no  longer  known  among  the  Hebrews, 
who  are  now  distinguished  by  their  marital  fidelity ; 
and  the  sacrificial  system  was  at  once  so  modified 
by  ecclesiastical  law  and  so  interpreted  by  pro- 
phetic teaching  that  with  the  destruction  of  Jeru- 
salem it  disappeared  forever  from  the  Jewish  reli- 
gion, without  in  the  least  affecting  the  funda- 
mental principles  or  the  essential  spirit  of  Judaism. 
The  same  doctrine  that  moral  reforms  to  be  effec- 
tual must  be  the  result  of  a  moral  growth  was,  as 
we  have  seen,  explicitly  affirmed  by  Jesus  Christ. 
His  teaching,  accordingly,  though  radical  was 
never  revolutionary;  and  so  gradual  has  been  the 
overthrow  of  slavery,  the  amelioration  of  war,  the 
transformation  of  government,  the  emancipation 
of  industry,  the  establishment  of  systems  of  popu- 
lar education,  the  elevation  of  woman,  and  the 
development  of  the  home,  that,  although  these 
reforms  have  been  absolutely  confined  to  Christen- 
dom, some  thinkers  have  believed  them  to  be 
wholly  due  to  other  than  Christian  influences,  and 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  361 


some  have  even  claimed  that  they  have  been  ac- 
complished in  spite  of  Christianity. 

This  principle  that  evolution,  not  revolution,  is 
the  true  method  of  enduring  reform,  and  this  spirit 
of  patient  waiting  coupled  with  high  endeavor, 
characterize  that  type  of  democracy  the  genealogy 
of  which  can  be  traced  historically  to  the  Hebraic 
commonwealth.  The  so-called  revolutions  in  Eng- 
land have  with  one  exception  been  developments 
of  a  larger  life  out  of  precedent  conditions;  and 
that  one  exception,  furnished  by  the  Puritan  Com- 
monwealth, did  not  survive  Oliver  Cromwell,  and 
was  followed  by  a  disastrous  moral  and  political 
reaction.  In  America  the  colonies  reluctantly  ac- 
cepted revolution  only  when  it  was  forced  upon 
them  as  their  only  escape  from  the  reestablishment 
of  a  feudal  system ;  our  fathers,  with  equal  reluc- 
tance, acquiesced  in  the  immediate  abolition  of 
American  slavery  only  when  it  became  necessary 
as  a  means  of  preserving  the  nation;  and  in  our 
own  times  the  anarchist  and  the  socialist,  who 
propose  to  disregard  the  experiences  and  to  discard 
the  work  of  the  past,  get  but  an  inattentive  listen- 
ing from  but  scant  audiences.  The  democracy  of 
America  is  essentially  a  conservative  democracy. 
This  characteristic  is  made  the  more  striking  by 
the  contrast  which  it  presents  to  the  French  de- 
mocracy. In  France  the  "men  of  the  Book,"  the 
Puritans  of  France,  disappeared  in  the  massacre 
and  the  exile  of  the  Huguenots;  in  their  dis- 
appearance   Hebraic    Christianity   disappeared  ; 


362 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


Eoman  imperialism  took  an  undisputed  possession 
of  the  church  as  of  the  nation;  the  revolution  of 
1789  was  equally  a  revolt  against  church  and  state; 
and  its  leaders,  many  of  them  men  both  of  intellec- 
tual ability  and  noble  spirit,  had,  or  seemed  to 
themselves  to  have,  no  alternative  but  to  break  ab- 
solutely with  a  past  which  was  wholly  reactionary, 
and  begin  anew.  The  comparative  results  of  the 
French  and  the  American  revolutions  remain  to 
attest  the  wisdom  of  the  third  principle  enunciated 
by  Jesus  Christ,  that  the  development  of  society 
into  a  kingdom  of  justice  and  liberty  must  be  by 
a  process  of  gradual  growth,  not  by  one  of  instan- 
taneous new  creation. 

IV.  Democracy  does  not  yet  clearly  perceive 
the  fourth  principle  which  Jesus  Christ  inculcated, 
namely,  that  the  secret  of  all  life  is  God  dwelling 
in  man  and  inspiring  him  to  an  ever  higher  life. 
And  yet  democracy  already  begins  to  feel  after 
this  truth,  if  haply  it  may  find  it;  and  I  cannot 
but  think  that  if  it  fails  to  see  it  clearly,  it  is  partly 
because  religious  teachers  have  failed  to  see  it 
clearly,  or  to  present  it  so  that  others  should  see  it 
clearly. 

Democracy  believes  in  law;  it  believes  in  gov- 
ernment for  the  protection  of  person,  of  property, 
of  the  family,  of  reputation.  Demoracy  has  or- 
ganized a  strong  government;  the  old  fears  that 
the  United  States  would  be  but  a  rope  of  sand  are 
no  longer  entertained  by  any  students  of  American 
history.    Democracy  is  as  far  removed  from  anar- 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  363 


chism  as  it  is  from  socialism.  But  law  must  be 
either  imposed  and  enforced  by  authority  from 
without,  or  imposed  and  enforced  by  authority 
from  within.  If  the  law  comes  from  without,  and 
is  enforced  by  a  power  from  without,  the  individ- 
ual is,  in  so  far,  in  subjection  to  some  one  other 
than  himself;  if  the  law  comes  from  within,  and 
is  enforced  by  his  reason  and  his  conscience,  the 
law  thus  within  the  man  is  a  self -enforcing  law ; 
when  a  man  lives  under  a  self-enforcing  law  he 
lives  in  liberty.  Law  according  to  the  Christian 
conception,  law  according  to  the  Old  Testament 
conception,  law  as  more  and  more  democracy  is 
coming  to  see  it,  is  the  law  of  man's  own  nature. 
It  is  not  an  edict  issued  by  a  king,  nor  a  statute 
framed  by  God;  it  is  the  law  of  man's  own  organ- 
ism. The  moral  law  is  a  part  of  his  organism  and  a 
product  of  it.  Those  laws  of  the  social  order  which 
bind  men  together  in  a  great  social  organism  are 
not  made  by  man;  they  are  made  by  the  Creator 
of  man;  they  are  divine;  but  they  are  not  exter- 
nal to  man ;  they  are  not  brought  down  to  him  at 
Mount  Sinai,  nor  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 
Mount  Sinai  and  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  do  but 
interpret  them.  This  is  the  fundamental  postulate 
of  liberty :  God  appeals  to  the  divine  in  man  and 
finds  in  man  himself  the  power  to  enforce  all  right- 
eous laws.  Thus  the  foundation  of  liberty  is  the 
recognition  —  intelligently  or  unintelligently  —  of 
a  divinely  organized  law ;  not  getting  its  authority 
from  any  human  will,  but  from  a  divine  will,  and 


364 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


from  that  will  as  it  is  manifested  in  the  structure 
of  the  human  soul,  and  as  it  finds  its  expression  in 
the  voice  of  the  human  reason  and  the  human  con- 
science. That  God  is  in  man,  that  man  is  of  kin 
to  God,  that  law  derives  its  authority  from  the 
divine  Lawgiver  and  not  from  the  human  czar, 
or  from  congress,  or  from  a  majority  —  this  is  the 
fundamental  postulate  of  free  institutions,  this  is 
the  basic  fact  of  democracy. 

V.  Christ  not  only  declared  that  he  had  come 
to  give  human  happiness  to  the  world,  and  to  give 
it  by  the  development  of  individual  character,  to 
do  this  by  a  gradual  process  of  growth,  the  secret 
of  which  would  be  a  growing  consciousness  of  the 
divine  within  them,  but  he  taught  them  that  when 
thus  they  were  developed  and  came  to  the  con- 
sciousness of  this  divine  within  them,  they  would 
be  brought  together  into  a  great  social  organism. 
And  he  gave  us  a  type  and  illustration  which  we 
should  have  perpetually  before  us,  which  should 
give  to  us  our  conception  of  the  type  of  this  organ- 
ism and  of  the  spirit  which  should  animate  it: 
"One  is  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven,  and  all 
ye  are  brethren."  The  family  is  the  type  of  the 
true  social  organism.  The  goal  of  democracy,  as 
of  Christianity,  is  a  family  or  brotherhood  of  man. 

The  family  is  the  first  and  oldest  of  organiza- 
tions and  is  the  parent  of  all  other  organizations. 
Out  of  the  patriarchal  family  grew  the  patriarchal 
church;  out  of  the  patriarchal  church  the  patri- 
archal government.    Governments  are  but  collec- 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  365 


tions  of  families ;  the  church  is  but  a  combination 
of  households.  As  the  family  is  the  first,  and  as 
the  family  is  the  parent,  so  the  family  is  the  type. 
"Our  Father"  is  more  than  an  acknowledgment 
of  our  relation  to  God,  it  is  an  acknowledgment  of 
our  relation  to  one  another;  and  this  relation 
which  we  bear  to  one  another  is  the  relation  of 
brothers  in  a  family,  as  the  relation  which  we  bear 
to  God  is  the  relation  of  children  to  a  father. 

The  first  fact  to  be  noticed  is  that  in  the  family 
the  ground  of  fellowship  is  in  the  parents.  These 
children  are  brethren,  not  because  they  think  alike, 
not  because  they  have  similar  temperaments,  not 
because  they  are  naturally  congenial  to  one  an- 
other, but  because  they  are  children  of  the  same 
father  and  mother.  Loyalty  to  the  father  and 
mother  makes  the  family  one.  So  loyalty  to  God 
makes  the  human  race  one;  this  is  the  first  and 
fundamental  fact.  A  brotherhood  of  man  —  why 
a  brotherhood  of  man  ?  I  can  understand  why  I 
am  brother  to  a  man  who  is  congenial  to  me,  who 
thinks  as  I  think  and  likes  what  I  like;  or  why 
I  am  brother  to  the  man  who  belongs  to  the  same 
state  or  the  same  nation  and  has  the  same  political 
interests  that  I  have ;  or  even  why  I  am  brother 
to  the  man  who  is  neighbor  to  me  and  with  whom 
I  come  in  perpetual  contact.  But  why  am  I  bro- 
ther to  all  men?  Why  am  I  brother  to  the  man 
against  whom  I  brush  in  the  street-car,  whom  I 
shall  never  see  again?  Why  am  I  brother  to  the 
man  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe?    What  basis 


366 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


is  there  for  saying  that  I  am  brother  to  all  men? 
Because  deeper  than  consanguinity,  deeper  than 
race  relationship,  deeper  than  a  common  language, 
is  this  sublime  fact:  that  we,  all  of  us,  rich  and 
poor,  black  and  white,  American  and  Filipino, 
are  children  of  God,  made  in  his  image,  or  at  least 
being  made  in  his  image.  This  it  is,  and  only 
this,  that  makes  us  brothers.  It  is  as  infidel  to 
deny  the  brotherhood  of  man  as  it  is  to  deny  the 
existence  of  God,  and  it  is  as  inconsistent  with 
any  large  human  progress  to  deny  the  Fatherhood 
of  God  as  it  is  to  deny  the  brotherhood  of  man. 
Atheism  never  can  be  made  to  consort  with  demo- 
cracy. 

The  second  fact  to  be  noticed  is  that  the  laws 
which  govern  the  family  in  their  inter-relationship 
to  one  another  are  the  laws  which  are  to  be  pro- 
jected into  society  and  to  govern  men  in  their  rela- 
tions with  one  another.  Mark  the  contrast  be- 
tween the  laws  which  we  recognize  as  laws  of  the 
family  and  those  which  we  generally  have  assumed 
to  be  the  laws  of  the  social  organism.  For  exam- 
ple: "Hire  labor  in  the  cheapest  market  and  sell 
it  in  the  highest  market;  "  this  is  the  silver-plated 
rule  of  industry;  this  is  the  basis  on  which  it  is 
supposed  a  harmonious  social  organism  can  be 
erected.  Apply  this  rule  to  the  family :  Seek  the 
wife  who  will  render  to  you  the  greatest  service 
and  ask  you  for  the  least  money;  seek  the  hus- 
band who  will  pay  the  largest  pin-money  and  ask 
of  you  the  least  service !    What  kind  of  a  family 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  367 


will  that  give  ?  Take  another  aphorism  of  science 
misapplied  to  the  social  order  —  "  struggle  for  ex- 
istence, survival  of  the  fittest."  Is  this  the  rule 
of  the  family?  The  babe  is  laid  in  the  mother's 
arms,  the  unfittest  infant  on  the  face  of  the  globe 
to  survive,  for  there  is  no  other  infant  that  has 
not  more  capacity  to  take  care  of  himself  than  the 
human  infant.  At  once  we  all  begin  to  study 
how  this  unfittest  can  survive.  The  boy  must 
take  off  his  noisy  shoes  when  he  enters  the  house, 
that  he  may  not  disturb  this  unfittest ;  the  husband 
must  be«careful  not  to  talk  too  loud  in  the  adjoin- 
ing room  lest  he  awake  the  unfittest;  he  must  get 
up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  and  walk  with  the 
unfittest,  that  the  unfittest  may  be  comforted  and 
go  to  sleep.  There  is  no  service  that  we  must  not 
render  for  the  little  king,  who  is  king  because 
he  is  dependent;  only  as  we  love  him,  and  care 
for  him,  and  give  ourselves  in  imrequited  service 
to  him,  will  he  survive.  If  we  were  to  take  these 
two  principles  of  the  home  and  carry  them  out 
into  our  industries,  if  the  problem  of  the  capitalist 
was,  how  large  wages  he  could  give  and  still  keep 
his  business  going,  and  the  problem  of  the  laborer, 
how  much  work  he  could  give  and  still  maintain 
the  time  necessary  for  his  own  highest  manhood; 
if  the  problem  in  our  life  was  to  "bear  one  an- 
other's burdens,  and  so  fulfill  the  law  of  Christ,'* 
which  is  also  the  law  of  democracy;  if  we  really 
believed  that  he  who  would  be  greatest  among  us 
should  be  the  servant  of  aU,  can  any  one  doubt 


368 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


that  the  social  problem  which  perplexes  us  would 
be  solved? 

Life  is  divinely  organized  for  mutual  service. 
The  farmer  gathers  the  raw  material  from  the 
earth;  the  manufacturer  converts  it  into  objects 
which  are  useful  to  human  life  —  the  grain  into 
flour,  the  wool  into  clothing;  the  railroad  man 
takes  this  material,  which  is  of  no  use  where  it  is, 
and  carries  it  across  the  continent  to  those  regions 
where  it  is  needed,  from  the  overfed  West  to  the 
underfed  cities  of  the  Atlantic  border ;  the  middle- 
man takes  what  is  transported  and  carries  it  to 
our  individual  houses;  the  banker  regulates  the 
money  through  which  all  this  mysterious  and  in- 
tricate system  of  interchange  is  carried  on;  the 
lawyer  determines  for  us  what  are  the  principles 
of  justice  by  which  we  are  to  be  governed  in  our 
dealings  one  with  another  in  this  intricate  system; 
the  doctor  cures  us  when  we  are  sick,  or,  if  we  are 
wise  and  he  is  also  wise,  keeps  us  from  getting 
sick;  the  teacher  gathers  from  all  the  experience 
of  the  past  that  which  shall  launch  us  into  life 
with  something  of  the  wisdom  acquired  by  our  fore- 
fathers; and  the  preacher  ministers  the  life  and 
love  of  God  to  men  to  inspire  them  in  all  their 
labor.  Life  is  organized  for  service,  and  the  goal 
of  democracy  is  the  realization  of  that  ideal  in 
which  every  man  shall  look  not  only  upon  his  own 
things,  but  also  on  the  things  of  his  brother;  in 
which  every  man  shall  endeavor  to  help  the  weaker 
man  through  the  hard  places  of  life;  in  which 


THE  GOAL  OF  DEMOCRACY  369 


every  man  shall  recognize  that  his  place  in  life, 
wherever  it  may  be,  is  a  place  for  the  service  of 
others,  not  for  self-service.  In  this  truth,  that  life 
is  a  place  for  service,  and  he  who  renders  the 
greatest  service  is  the  greatest  man,  not  in  the 
groundless  notion  that  all  men  are  equal  in  their 
abilities  or  endowments  or  ought  to  be  equal  in 
their  office  or  function,  is  the  foundation  of  demo- 
cracy to  be  found. 

Such  seems  to  me  to  be  the  goal  toward  which 
that  democracy  whose  source  is  to  be  traced  to 
the  Hebraic  commonwealth  has  been  steadily  tend- 
ing :  universal  happiness,  founded  on  the  develop- 
ment of  character,  wrought  by  a  gradual  process, 
inspired  by  the  indwelling  of  God,  and  leading  to 
the  unification  of  the  human  race  in  one  brother- 
hood, bound  together^by  love,  and  manifesting  it- 
self in  mutual  service. 

In  bringing  this  series  of  lectures  to  a  close, 
I  sum  up  their  results  in  a  paragraph:  The  con- 
flict of  the  centuries  is  one  between  the  doctrine 
of  pagan  imperialism,  that  life  and  the  world  are 
made  for  the  few,  whom  the  many  are  to  serve, 
and  that  of  the  Hebraic  democracy,  that  life  and 
the  world  are  made  for  the  many,  and  the  great 
are  to  be  their  servants.  This  democratic  or 
Hebraic  or  Christian  doctrine  involves :  in  politics. 
All  just  government  is  for  the  benefit  of  the  gov- 
erned; in  political  economy.  The  common  wealth 
is  for  the  benefit  of  the  common  people ;  in  edu- 
cation, A  fair  opportunity  for  the  development 


370 


THE  RIGHTS  OF  MAN 


of  every  individual;  in  religion,  The  right  of 
every  soul  to  learn  for  itseK  what  it  can  of  the 
Infinite,  and  to  tell  what  it  thinks  it  has  learned, 
v/  Of  the  Hebraic  democracy  the  United  States  af- 
fords the  best  modern  example;  in  the  faithful 
application  of  these  simple  principles  it  will  find 
the  solution  of  its  problems,  both  domestic  and 
foreign.  Its  perils  are  great,  but  the  grounds  for 
hopefulness  as  to  the  final  issue  are  greater.  That 
issue,  if  it  be  successfully  achieved,  involves  the 
material  welfare  of  all  the  people,  based  on  their 
intellectual  and  spiritual  development;  the  free- 
dom of  the  community,  based  on  the  recognition 
of  a  divine  law  enforced  by  reason  and  conscience; 
and  a  brotherhood  of  humanity,  based  on  loyalty 
to  one  Father  and  manifested  in  glad  service  ren- 
dered by  his  sons  as  freemen  to  one  another. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Adams,  Chables  F.,  on  single 
tax,  140. 

Agnosticism  and  dogmatism,  193. 

America, a  nation  of  pioneers,  265 ; 
and  immigration,  207;  and  re- 
ligion, 206;  and  subject  races, 
275 ;  democracy  in,  196. 

Apathy,  political,  in  America,  293. 

Aristotle's  forms  of  government, 
40,  90. 

Arminian  doctrine  of  election,  37. 
Australian  ballot,  advantages  of, 
238. 

Baptism,  election  by,  34. 
Bible  study  in  the  public  schools, 
164. 

Boss,  the,  as  a  leader,  303. 

Brice,  Prof.,  on  political  discus- 
sion, 286. 

Brotherhood  of  man,  basis  of,  365 ; 
the  real,  341. 

Bureaucracy,  91. 

Calvin's  doctrine  of  election,  36. 

Capitalists  and  wage-workers,  298. 

Carnegie  and  his  wealth,  58. 

Character  and  democracy,  321, 356. 

Christ,  conception  of  education, 
59 ;  counsel  as  to  wealth,  55 ;  five 
gi-eat  sermons,  337 ;  Jewish  feel- 
ing against,  33 ;  the  Prophet  of 
New  Judaism,  6. 

Christianity,  and  democracy,  336 ; 
and  wealth,  352. 

Chm-ch,  decline  in  authority  of 
the,  281 ;  democracy's  test  of  the, 
357. 

Churches,  growth  of,  in  U.  S.,  210 ; 

influence  of  our,  333. 
Citizenship,  conditions  necessary 

to  good,  155. 


Civilization,  essentials  of,  266. 
Classes,  division  of  society  into 

two,  124. 
Commerce  a  life-giver,  269. 
Communism,  128 ;  not  Christianity, 

351. 

"  Consent  of  the  governed"  theory, 
69. 

Conservatism  of  the  American 
people,  320. 

Constitutional  government  in  Eu- 
rope, 26. 

Corporations,  influence  of,  300. 

Creeds  and  religion,  185. 

Croker,  Eichard,  as  a  boss,  305. 

Dante,  on  the  unbaptized,  35. 

Declaration  of  Independence, 
fundamental  doctrine  of,  46,  88. 

Demagogue,  the,  as  a  leader,  302. 

Democracy,  and  poverty,  349 ;  and 
the  public  school,  154 ;  and  war, 
348 ;  as  an  experiment,  315  ;  in 
America,  196 ;  is  social  Chris- 
tianity, 336  ;  not  socialism,  355 ; 
of  industry,  127. 

Democratic  institutions,  236. 

Despotic  government,  value  of 
101. 

Destiny,  manifest,  existence  of, 

261. 

Dogmatism  and  agnosticism,  193. 

Education,  a  factor  of  civilization, 
271 ;  and  the  state,  151 ;  change 
in  conception  of,  58 ;  democracy 
is,  317 ;  growth  of,  in  U.  S.,  211 ; 
progress  of,  144  ;  what  is,  149. 

Election,  doctrine  of,  34. 

Elections  preservative  of  Ameri. 
can  life,  330. 

England,  imperialism  in,  15. 


374 


INDEX 


English  colonial  government,  42, 
Evolution,  of  government,  96;  of 
kingdoms  of  God,  359. 

Faith  and  religion,  184. 
Family,  the,  type  of  the  society, 
364. 

Fatherhood  of  God,  the,  186,  364. 
Feudalism,  53. 

Fi'auce  under  the  Bourbons,  50. 
Franchise  tax  or  rental,  136. 
French  Revolution,  the,  23,  51. 
Forces  of  nature  not  private  pro- 
perty, 113. 

Geography  and  citizenship,  157. 

George,  Henry,  on  Single  Tax,  141, 

Germany,  unification  of,  29. 

Giddings,  F,  H,,  on  the  "new 
struggle,"  264, 

Gladstone  on  religious  truth,  179. 

God,  in  man,  the  secret  of  life,  362 ; 
the  quest  after,  187 ;  his  purpose 
seen  in  his  works,  60. 

Government,  basis  of,  68 ;  change 
in  conception  of,  40;  evolution 
of,  96 ;  forms  of,  in  U.  S.,  93 ; 
object  of  all,  100;  of  English 
colonies,  43 ;  what  is,  65 ;  what 
is  a  free,  72 ;  what  is  a  good,  217 ; 
what  is  the  best,  92. 

Growth  of  the  United  States,  209. 

Happiness,  the  diffusion  of,  347. 
Harrison,  Frederic,    on  French 

Revolution,  51. 
Hebraic,  doctrine  of  election,  34 ; 

social  ideals,  4. 
History,  and  citizenship,  158  ;  the 

lessons  of  U.  S.,  262. 
Hobbes,  Thomas,  in  defense  of 

absolutism,  71. 
Hudson,  Mr.,  on  power  of  pluto- 
crat, 309. 
Huxley,  on  education,  149, 271 ;  on 

the  Bible  in  the  public  school, 

168. 

Immigration  and  America,  207, 
Imperialism,  in  England,  15;  in 
France,  23;  loss  of  supremacy 


of,  31 ;  on  European  continent, 
19 ;  Roman,  2, 

Imports,  tariff  on,  unjust,  129. 

Income  tax,  evils  of,  130. 

Independence  not  liberty,  86. 

Indian  question,  the,  218, 

Individualism,  development  of 
282,  ' 

Industrial  education  and  citizen- 
ship, 161 ;  elements  of  civiliza- 
tion,  268, 

Industry,  democracy  of,  127 ;  De- 
mocracy's test  of,  358. 

Inquisition,  the,  and  Spain,  28. 

Isolation  of  U.  S.,  destruction  of, 

254. 

Italy,  unification  of,  28. 

Kostlin,  Juhus,  on  Luther,  11. 

Land,  private  ownership  of,  110. 
Language  study  and  citizenship, 
156. 

Law  an  essential  of  civilizationi 

266. 

Lawlessness,  spirit  of,  in  Amer- 
ica,  294, 

Liberty,  not  derived  from  nature, 
69 ;  not  independence,  86, 

Literature,  and  citizenship,  159; 
influence  of,  in  America,  327. 

Local  self-government  in  Amer- 
ica, 279, 

Lowell,  A.  L.,  on  "social  com- 
pact "  theory,  74, 
Lutheranism,  10, 146, 

Majority,  falUbility  of  the,  285. 
McKinley,  assassination  of,  295. 
Medicine-man,  the  political,  310. 
Methodist  doctrine  of  election,  37. 
Minority,  problem  of  the  rights  of 
a,  243. 

Missionary,  spirit,  the,  272 ;  work, 

widening  scope  of,  39. 
Moral,  power  of  America,  211; 

training  and  citizenship,  163. 

Napoleon  Bonaparte,  23. 
Natural  rights  of  man,  63. 
Negro  question,  the,  223. 


INDEX 


375 


Newman,  J.  H.,  on  private  judg- 
ment, 178, 180,  188. 

New  theology  doctrine  of  election, 
38. 

Ocean,  the,  not  an  industrial  pro- 
duct, 108. 

Paternalism,  243. 

Paul's  doctrine  of  election,  36. 

Philippines  questions,  88. 

Pioueer  spii'it  in  America,  265. 

Plato,  on  government  for  the  gov- 
ernors, 41. 

Plutocrat,  the,  as  a  leader,  307. 

Political,  machine,  the  problem 
of,  234  ;  principles,  fundamen- 
tal, 2,  216. 

Poverty  and  democracy,  349, 

Press,  influence  of,  in  America, 
329. 

Primary,  the  direct,  239. 
Principles  of  Social  Christianity, 
347. 

Property  tax,  the,  132. 

Public  opinion,  respect  for,  324. 

Puritanism,  17. 

Kelativity  of  knowledge,  doctrine 
of,  14. 

Eehgion,  and  America,  206; 
change  in  conception  of,  32 ;  de- 
mocracy is,  318 ;  what  is,  181. 

Keligious  truth  determined  by 
state  and  church,  171. 

Remedies  against  raisgovern- 
ment,  78. 

Revolution,  intellectual,  13 ;  justi- 
fication for,  81;  religious,  10; 
the  French,  23. 

Rights,  natural,  of  man,  63. 

Rivers  not  private  property,  108. 

Roman,  church,  fundamental 
postulate  of,  9 ;  social  organiza- 
tion, 2. 


Rousseau  and  his  philosophy,  21. 

School  system,  public,  influence 

of,  326. 
Self-defense,  right  of,  64. 
Self  -  government,  the  ultimate 

principle,  99. 
Sermons,  Christ's  five  great,  337. 
Ship  subsidy  bill,  the,  247,  292. 
Single  tax,  the,  129. 
Slavery,  why  unjust,  105. 
Smollett  on  English  government 

system,  48. 
Social  Chi-istianity,  evolution  of, 

341. 

Socialism  not  Christianity,  351. 
Spain  founded  on  the  inquisition, 
28. 

State,  the,  and  education,  151. 
Suffrage  not  a  natural  right,  85. 
Supreme  court,  authority  of,  203. 

Toleration  or  catholicity,  190. 
Trades-unions  in  the  U,  S.,  299. 
Traditions  in  America,  lack  of, 
280. 

United  States,  growth  of,  209. 

Vanderbilt,  Cornelius,  wealth  of, 
120: 

Voltaire  and  his  service  to  France, 

20. 

War  and  democracy,  348. 

Wealth,  and  Christianity,  351 ; 
change  in  conception  of,  52; 
chief  sources  of,  114 ;  concentra- 
tion of,  in  U.  S.,  119, 121 ;  distri- 
bution of,  115 ;  growth  of,  in  U. 
S.,  209 ;  what  is  true,  117. 

Westminster  confession  of  Faith, 
36,  37. 

Woman  suffrage  question,  the, 
231. 


ElectrotyPed  and  printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  Co. 
Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 


Date  Due 

r 

FEB  ?  r;  ^ 

f — 

0  

985'* 

